


Across Mountains (And Over Cornfields)

by TheSaltiestDog



Series: Scales & Sunflowers [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Batfamily (DCU), Bottom Bruce Wayne, Denial of Feelings, Elseworlds, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:20:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaltiestDog/pseuds/TheSaltiestDog
Summary: On one of 52 Earths, magic has become as prominent as science and both have ushered in a world unlike any other in the Multiverse. Where heroes still defend it, but other creatures of legend exist among them.And fate has a way of making sure that the one constant in the Multiverse stays true, that Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne meet.No matter the odds.Dragon AU where Clark is still Superman but Bruce is a dragon and they both still end up finding each other and even fall in love along the way.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent/Lois Lane (Past)
Series: Scales & Sunflowers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813903
Comments: 30
Kudos: 177
Collections: Superbat Reverse Bang 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kriitikaloaf](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kriitikaloaf).



> It's been about a decade since I've written anything, and I thought I'd try my hand at a big bang. It's been roughbut I'm glad I had the opportunity to participate! Also, superbat consumes my soul so thanks to Kriitikaloaf for making this verse with me. I didn't ask for a beta because I couldn't trust myself to finish this and I barely did, so apologies for weird grammer and any spelling mistakes.
> 
> Big thanks to the Mods who worked hard and made this happen! Y'ALL THE BEST! And I apologize for being the actual worst with maintaning my schedule... sorry.
> 
> Also pls check out Kriitkaloaf's amazing art [here](https://kriitikaloaf.tumblr.com/image/622622721105428480)

It's close to 3AM when Bruce hears a pointed cough to his right, a quick glance confirms it to be Alfred. It's been a familiar sight these past few weeks, his trusted friend with a tray in hand and a single brow raised in silent question. The silence stretches for a moment more before Alfred reaches for the discarded cup of tea, long gone cold. With barely a clatter he sets it on the silver tray and Bruce can feel his headache return. When it was obvious that Alfred wasn't going to leave, he let out a quiet sigh and turned to face him. 

"Was there something I could help you with, Alfred?" Bruce chanced a quick glance to the adjacent monitors and winced, the late hour mocking him. Alfred was definitely unimpressed.

"Just wondering how much longer you were planning on staying up, Master Bruce? You do have an early start in the morning." 

The dry tone in Alfred's delivery scraped over Bruce's worn nerves, a clear sign he's been awake far longer than he should have been. With this unexpected break the sleepless nights and gnawing hunger make themselves known and Bruce almost wants to put his head on the desk and sleep right here in the damp, cold cave. Almost. He'll be damned if he gives Alfred the satisfaction. 

"I'm almost finished Alfred, just reading over the last of these reports." Bruce made it a point to wave the smaller pile of papers in Alfred's general direction, hoping to appease his old friend.

Not one to fall for his ward's tricks the old butler made a move to grab the sheets out of Bruce's hands, only to have them quickly placed back on the desk. Alfred looked over, clearly unimpressed. For the first time tonight he really looked at the man he would call his son, looked and took in the dark bruises under his eyes, the disheveled hair and beard that was in desperate need of maintenance. These long nights have taken a toll on him and for once Alfred curses Bruce's soft heart.

"I see. And would reading through all of these reports by tonight make much of a difference?" 

Bruce bristled, whatever drowsiness that crept in quickly vanished and was replaced by anger. He could feel the biting words on the tip of his tongue, the only thing stopping the onslaught was the worn look in Alfred's eyes. 

"I don't mean to sound so harsh Master Bruce, but you and the GCPD have been working on the case together for months now without any leads," Alfred gently placed the tray on the desk next to the case files. He grabbed the sheets and flipped through them one by one, leaving them in a haphazard pile when he was done. "Maybe it's time to call it a night Sir, the GCPD--"

"The GCPD specifically requested for me to be on this case Alfred, I have to treat this as a top priority matter."

Bruce gathered the loose sheets back into a neat stack while avoiding Alfred's weary stare. Instead he moved over to the bank of screens, flicking through CCTV footage. Soon enough the only sounds that filled the cave were the hum of the computers and the faint clacking of the keyboard. 

"Is it because of the dragon attacks?" 

Damn, and here Bruce was hoping he could have a quiet night to himself. The thought of his unbelievably soft king size bed and Egyptian cotton sheets was almost enough to tempt him away from the case, maybe then Alfred will leave him alone and only harass him during daylight hours. Instead he leaned back in his chair, current report forgotten in favour of rubbing his tired eyes. 

"Unfortunately it is, the United States has experienced more dragon attacks in the past four months than they have in the last century. There seems to be no common factor between each attack and no specific timeline that they're following." Bruce will blame it on the late hour and lack of sleep for his loose tongue and lack of judgment as he pulls up his research.

"I've called several meetings already with the dragon families, both greater and lesser, and none have admitted to any of theirs being the culprits." 

Alfred couldn't help but snort, dragons weren't known for admitting to mistakes. "Hard to say any of them are being truly honest, Sir. It would be quite the dishonor to be the one dragon line to end the truce between us and the humans." 

Alfred's eyes scanned each screen, taking note of where each attack took place. He noticed the distracted look on his young ward and took the opportunity to shut down the computers. The betrayed look did little to deter the older dragon from his goal, making sure Bruce actually got to sleep at a reasonable time tonight. 

"Be that as it may, even young dragons such as yourself need rest every now and again Master Bruce." 

"I'm not  _ that _ young," Bruce muttered. He gave Alfed a small smile as he peeled himself from the chair and stretched his sore muscles and back. "But I'll take your advice just this once and call it a night." 

Bruce went about shutting off the lights and climbed the stairs to the manor. He barely caught Alfred's sarcastic remarks of the late hour. Finally out of the cave Bruce feels how tired he actually is, the long hours catching up with him. He barely manages to drag himself upstairs into his bathroom to get ready for bed. 

With his nightly routine completed, Bruce all but collapsed into bed. It was unfortunate that sleep eluded him. After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, he glances over to the clock at the bedside table. The bright numbers blinked back and Bruce let out a tired sigh when he saw that only forty five minutes had passed. How is it that he barely got eight hours of sleep this whole week, but the one time he craves it he's wide awake. It was looking to be a rough morning.

Bruce didn't want to admit it but the case with the dragon attacks was bothering him quite a bit. Usually he wouldn't bother with police business but he actually liked Jim. Of all the police Commissioners in recent memory he was the most tolerable. Bribes never worked on him and dirty cops didn't stay for very long under his watch. It was safe to say that even with his rough edges and smoking habit (which was a shame, human lives were so short as is), James Gordan is a good man. So when the Commissioner asks for a favour, the least Bruce could do was hear him out. 

But it was just his luck that this one case would have the potential for political upheaval. Just thinking about it was almost enough to knock Bruce out for the night. Almost. 

Throughout the Multiverse, very few earths were as heavily steeped in magic as this one. There was one, maybe another, that Bruce knew of and he made sure to double check with Zatanna. The magic on this earth is old though, the ley lines drawn deep into the soil and allowing many supernatural beings to thrive. For as long as Bruce could remember magic has co existed alongside humanity in a fragile balance. There have been moments over the course of history where violence and betrayals have strained the tentative relationships and Bruce fears for what is to come. 

Humans have become greedy, dangerous. They encroach on land belonging to beings older than themselves and take what they want. Most magical creatures have left while others have voiced their dissent. Even more alarming are the disappearances within the magical community. All manner of creatures have vanished all across the country and the only explanation would be hunters. 

Hunters are rare these days but not unheard of, humans have been known to be very resourceful. Even with the new laws and policies created to help establish the supernatural with basic rights, humans still hunt them for profit or trophies. The restrictions just add to the challenge. Within the last decade the United Nations have made an official statement of having no affiliation with the hunters which makes dealing with them all that much harder. Now with the frequent dragon attacks tensions are high between both humans and the supernatural. 

Bruce couldn't handle the mental marathon his mind was doing anymore and decided it was definitely time to sleep. He rolled over and rifled through the night stand to grab the bottle of sleeping pills, sleep wasn't going to come easily tonight. Bruce dry swallowed a couple pills and as he slowly drifted to sleep he couldn't help but feel anxious about the future.

..

"I just don't understand what to do, Clark. It's been almost every other night and I can't seem to do anything about it. The rest of the animals are terrified, at this rate there won't be any of them left."

Clark was at a complete loss, between league business and his job at the Daily Planet there just wasn't enough time in the day to get everything he wanted done. Today's issue being the animal attacks on the Kent farm. Now these kinds of attacks aren't unheard of but how frequently they are does worry him.

"I'm free right now if you want me to fly over and take a look?" He sped through putting away his groceries and changed into the familiar red and blue before his mother had a chance to answer.

"I don't want to trouble you Clark, but if you don't mind that would be great."

The clear relief in his mother's voice spurred Clark on as he quickly took to the air, tucking his phone into a hidden pocket in his cape. The flight to Kansas wasn't very long but it gave him enough time to mull over what he knew. From what his mother has told him, the attacks started as far back as a few months ago. At first it was scarce enough that it wasn't a huge concern. The farm has seen it's fair share of lost livestock in the past, nothing a few reinforced fences couldn't solve. Until those fences weren't enough and the farm was in danger of losing its remaining animals. 

Clark wouldn't admit it to his mother but he does worry about her. After his father passed it's just been her looking after the farm all by herself. Sure he helped out during those first couple of years but he couldn't stay. He needed to see the world and learn about who he was, where he came from. He did feel a bit guilty for leaving his mother alone for the following years, even if he did try to keep in contact as best he could. Now he tries to visit more often and help out when he can.

Before he knew it Clark could see the farm over the horizon and put on a burst of speed, anxious to see his mother. As he slowed down to hover over the sunflowers he waved at his mother, her answering smile warming his heart. He slowly floated towards her until he cleared the flowers and landed softly in front of her.

"Clark it's so good to see you! You got here pretty quick, how are you?" Martha didn't waste any time pulling Clark into her arms while he leaned into the hug, he didn't realize how much he missed this. Missed his mother.

"Hey Ma, it's good to see you too. I'm sorry I haven't been here more often," Clark apologized.

Martha just gave him a small smile and brushed his wind tossed hair out of his eyes.

"None of that now. I know how busy you are Clark, and the world can't help but need you. Dont worry too much about your old Ma, I get by just fine." 

Clark opened his mouth, ready to argue with his mother only to clamp it shut at the look she gives him. Knowing he wasn't going to win a fight with Martha Kent he let her lead him back towards the house. 

Once inside Martha really looks at her boy and can't help but fuss, hands running up and down his frame. "Are you sure you're eating enough? You're pretty much skin and bones! Is city life treating you properly dear?" 

"Ma I'm fine! You do remember I don't actually need to eat right?" Clark placed his hand over top Martha's, hoping to placate her. He never wanted her to worry but more recently it feels like that's all he does.

"Well you are my boy and a mother can't help but worry. How about we have a quick bite to eat before we get down to business?"

..

The afternoon found Clark in his old farm clothes and spending lunch with his mother. Between the light conversation and familiar home cooked food, Clark was content for the first time in a long while. He didn't realize how badly he needed a break from both his day job and the League. He feels a bit guilty that it took trouble at home to get him away. And speaking of trouble at home, he can't ignore the reason for his visit any longer, as much as he would love to. 

"Thanks for the lunch Ma, but I think we better get to the reason I'm here." Clark quickly cleared the table and with a burst of speed had all the dishes soaking in the sink. He sat back down at the table across from Martha, urging her to start from the beginning. 

"Well it started a few months ago, the attacks I mean. I didn't think too much about it, these things happen right? So I just made sure everything was secured before I went in for the night and for awhile nothing out of the ordinary happened and I just thought that was the end of that." Martha paused trying to put into words what she saw that night. 

"I haven't been that sacred in a long time Clark. Honestly, the last time I felt like that was when Johnathan…" She couldn't hold in the quiet sob, Clark reached for her hand sitting on top the table, heart in his throat as he watched his mother break down in front of him. He slowly rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, hoping to help soothe her frayed nerves. A few minutes passed before Martha gave Clark's hand a firm squeeze, letting him know she was ready to continue.

"It was a dragon. It looked like the devil, horns long and twisted towards the sky and scales black as night I almost didn't see it. The only reason I could make out its shape in the dark was because it was so big, at least as big as the barn it blocked out some of the stars! I got one look at it and I just froze, couldn't move a muscle and watched it tear into those poor animals. Oh Clark the noises they were making, just awful!" 

Martha's grip on Clark's hand tightened, as if to ground herself and find the strength to continue. "And the worst part was that the beast didn't even eat any of them."

At this Clark's eyebrows rose, the shock clear on his face.

"Wait you're telling me this dragon has been to the farm and attacked the animals on multiple occasions, and not eaten them?"

Clark very much hoped he misheard his mother, but at her firm nod he let out a long, weary sigh. This situation has just gotten immensely more difficult. Just thinking about how to deal with it was giving Clark a headache, he brought his fingers to his temples and put enough pressure so he could actually  _ feel _ it.

"The best I can do for now is to try to catch it the next time it comes around. This is, unfortunately, a delicate matter. I've been hearing that relations between us and those of magical origins have been tense of late. So the safest option for now is to just try to reason with it and hope for the best."

Clark could tell that wasn't what his mother wanted to hear but they don't have a choice. If he wanted a permanent solution he'd have to talk to one of the ruling dragon families, something he'd like to ask Diana or Zantanna about. It wasn't as if Clark didn't want to address this issue himself, it's just that he hasn't ever met any of the dragon families before and wouldn't want to cause an international crisis. Again. He gave his mother one last hug before quickly changing back into his suit.

"I'll figure something out at the Fortress and I'll be back in a couple of days." As Clark was about to take off he looked back and couldn't help the guilt pooling in his gut. 

"I know this isn't what you wanted to hear and I'm sorry. But I'll still try my best to get this fixed, I promise." Clark said, determination burning in his eyes.

"Don't feel too bad Clark, I understand these are delicate matters. I'm just grateful you can do something about it. Now run along, it's getting late and no matter what you may think you still need plenty of rest!" She scolded, but Clark could hear the smile in her voice.

Clark couldn't hold in his laughter as he flew off towards the Fortress, plans running through his head of how to catch a dragon. Hopefully he would convince one of the Justice League Dark members to help him out.

..

Bruce never liked leaving Gotham alone for too long. He's lived his whole life there and if he could count on one thing, it's that the city never rests. Maybe it's the gothic architecture or the lack of natural sunlight, but crime is a near constant. The only other city that could match the crime rate would be Bludhaven, or the lovely city Bruce has found himself in. 

Hub City was charming in it's own way, if you enjoyed decrepit buildings, smog as thick as molasses and corrupt figure heads. It makes one miss Gotham's drab skyline. Unfortunately Bruce was looking for a specific person, with Zatanna no longer a viable option he'll have to get creative. 

"You can stop lurking, I know you're there Question."

Bruce watched out of the corner of his eye as the faceless vigilante emerged from a particularly dark corner of the rooftop. Charles Victor Szasz was an anomaly amongst humans, a self taught urban shaman that claims to walk between two worlds. Bruce has heard tales that he can speak to cities and overhear conversations through the streets. More likely that the smoke he uses for his faceless mask is a hallucinogen, but desperate times and all that.

At first neither spoke, listening to the sirens wailing into the night and muttering from the few brave people wandering the streets. Not one to waste time Bruce turned to face the Question.

"So what have you heard?"

"Not much, the last dragon to pass through here was months ago. Didn't look like the type to cause trouble either," Question paused, head tilted. "You look awful, this case giving you trouble?" 

Bruce could feel his shoulders tensing, this meeting was already losing focus and he only managed to get one question out. This must be a new record. Before he could answer, Question went and opened his mouth.

"If you are I don't understand why you won't ask Zatanna or even Constantine for help. I feel like they're better… equipped to handle the problem." Question asked.

If Bruce was human he's pretty sure he would've needed to replace his molars with how hard he was grinding them. Thankfully that isn't an issue and he took a few calming breaths before he did something stupid, like throw Question off this rooftop. 

"I think you're being very optimistic in Constantine's understanding of anything related to magic. I wouldn't ask him for help, even if I was locked in the House of Mystery and he had the only key," Bruce growled. "To ask for that con man's help would be a true act of desperation."

"Still doesn't explain why you didn't go to arguably, the most powerful magic user on the planet. I'm sure what little mystery you're investigating would be solved in no time with Zatanna's help." Question turned his head ever so slightly, watching closely for any kind of reaction. When he got barely a twitch he decided to push his luck even further tonight, he was feeling  _ daring. _

"You do remember that I've been known to talk to cities? It would be no trouble to just head over to Gotham and have a nice little chat. The last attack was in Gotham, right?" Question asked, feigning ignorance.

The air stilled, a foreboding tension creeping in and settling between the two lone figures. Bruce slowly looked over at Question, pinning him with his draconic eyes. They glowed amber in the moonlight and a low rumbling growl resonated from deep within his chest as a warning. Question merely ignored the threat of danger coming off of Bruce.

"What is it you're hiding Bruce? Everyone knows your city is far from a gleaming utopia as one can get. It would honestly be better for everyone if--" Question choked on his next words, looking down at the hand wrapped around his throat. He followed the arm up to the seething reptilian eyes burning with anger and shut his mouth. He forgot how dangerous Bruce could be, he only hoped his mistake won't cost him his life tonight.

"That's enough Charles, before you say something you'll regret," Bruce growled. Though with how angry he was it's surprising if Question could make out the words.

"N-no one's… called me Ch-Charles since the… orphanage," Question managed to wheeze out before Bruce shook him by the throat.

"Enough! If you have nothing useful to add then I think it's best if we call it a night." Bruce shook Question one last time before throwing him to the gravel. 

The night seemed to be a lost cause, Bruce took a risk asking Question for help on this case and he had no one to blame for how the night turned out. It was just very… frustrating. Not for the first time, he regrets the falling out he had with Zatanna. If only he wasn't so prideful and actually listened to Alfred for once.

_ "A little bit of communication would go a long way Master Wayne, for you and everyone else." _

A bit too late, unfortunately. Considering Bruce hasn't heard so much of a whisper about Gotham's resident magician. At the end of the day Bruce is of the House of Wayne, and he will endure. 

Ignoring the coughing man next to him, Bruce moved to the edge of the roof and prepared himself for the flight back to Gotham.

"Wait!"

Bruce stopped, feet just shy of the edge and took a deep calming breath. In a moment of weakness he dragged a hand down his face and let out a tired sigh. He would very much like to go home and stare up at the ceiling for a few hours. He could hear Question slowly get up and take a step towards him. A warning growl from Bruce was all he needed to stop.

"Whatever it is you want to say, spit it out," Bruce sighed. He just wanted this night to be over.

Question cleared his throat a few times, "I don't know how reliable this is, but I've heard rumors that the midwest has been a hotspot for dragon attacks recently. Might be worth looking into."

Bruce turned around, taking in the disheveled appearance and hoarse voice of the vigilante. The rumor is barely worth looking into but Bruce is running out of leads. If this is the best he's going to get tonight he'll take it.

"Why didn't you start with that? Would have saved you a lot of trouble."

"Would you believe me if I told you I enjoyed your company?" Question asked, a slight teasing note in his voice.

Bruce couldn't help but scoff, "Don't push your luck Question, I can still fit throwing you off this building into my schedule tonight."

Without waiting for a response Bruce pulled out his phone and quickly dialed the manor. 

"So I am safe to assume that tonight was a success?" 

"More or less, I did manage to get a lead though I'm not quite sure how reliable it is." Bruce turned his head, hoping to have Question expand on his vague Intel. He wasn't surprised to find the faceless vigilante long gone.

"Either way it's the best we have at the moment. Question said that the midwestern United States has seen the most recent dragon attacks. The fact that we haven't heard anything in the news or from Gordon makes this worth looking into."

"Very good then. I'm assuming you'll be returning to the manor shortly for a full night's rest and we can begin planning first thing in the morning?" Alfred asked, not even trying to hide his sarcasm.

Bruce knew better than to try to lie to him so he decided to not say anything, feeling like a fledgling all over again. 

"Well I'll make sure to turn on the tracking chip in your molar then. That way I'll at least know where to pick up the body when you eventually get in over your head," Alfred replied dryly, not impressed in the slightest.

Bruce, feeling thoroughly chastised, merely grunted into the phone before ending the call. Finished checking in with Alfred, Bruce tucked his phone away and took a running leap off the roof. In those few seconds of freefall he let the familiar feeling of transforming wash over him. His bones grew and bent into impossible shapes for a human, his body growing to an enormous size. The air crackled with an old magic as his wings and claws replaced his arms and hands. The process took no more than a handful of seconds and in the next moment a large black wyvern took to the skies in Hub City, black smoke billowing in his wake.

..

Bruce has no idea why he didn't listen to Alfred and returned home to the manor. He was essentially flying blind with no idea which direction to head in, let alone which state. Now that he's had a moment to calm down he can't seem to shake the drowsiness muddling his thoughts and clinging to his limbs. He's just passed into Kansas so turning around would only cost him another hour. An hour in the air and then eight of them in bed if Alfred had his way. 

But for some reason, he continued to fly further away from Gotham. Passing fields of crops and worn farmhouses, as if an invisible chain was wrapped around his ribs and dragging him along. He couldn't explain it, but he felt as if he was outside his body. Bruce could still feel the air on his scales and the light drizzle that followed him from the state over, but it felt as if someone else was in control. He angled his wings and body into a slow turn towards someplace called Smallville.

_ "I must be more tired than I thought" _

No sooner did those words cross his mind, Bruce heard something unusual, a small displacement of air. He had enough time to swivel his head before the air was knocked out of him. In a matter of seconds Bruce could feel thick bands encase his body, trapping his right wing and climbing up farther to reach his jaws. The flames that climbed up his throat were quickly extinguished, embers and black smoke escaping out the sides of his mouth. Bruce thrashed in the air, trying to loosen the bands and stay airborne. Unfortunately he could feel the bands squeezing tighter with every movement.

With no idea what kind of trap he was stuck in and with only one wing free to keep him airborne, Bruce could admit to himself that he was in over his head. Granted, a fall from this height wouldn't kill him but it would hurt. And with the ground rushing up to meet him he had just moments to decide how he was going to handle this crash landing. 

Bruce's left wing took the brunt of the fall, on account of it being out while trying to control his wild downward spiral. Only years of training and quick reflexes saved it from snapping on impact, but Bruce was pretty sure he's dislocated it at least. The next few moments were spent plowing up huge chunks of dirt and essentially, running his face into the ground. This would be a moment he would never mention to any member of his family.

Eventually Bruce managed to come to a stop and try to catch his breath, taking in tiny lungfuls of air that his makeshift muzzle allowed him. Once the ringing in his ears quieted Bruce tried to stand, before his injured wing reminded him that it wasn't a good idea to move. A pained grunt slipped through his clenched jaw as he fell back into the dirt, the mysterious bands tightening ever so slightly. 

This was very bad, Bruce's entire body aches and he knows for a fact that flying is out of the question even if he wasn't tied up. He had no idea where he was, who set the trap, or when they would come back. Only one thought was running through his head and he could feel the panic finally setting in. 

_ "A downed dragon is a dead dragon." _

The part of his brain that came up with the worst possible scenarios was about to hit a full blown panic and Bruce quickly smothered it and pushed it as far back into his mind as possible. He didn't have time to deal with that at the moment. 

Bruce quickly ran through a mental checklist list of what he knew, that he was somewhere in Kansas, held down by either some form of alien tech or magic, and that he was injured. He tested the bands one last time before deciding that it was a lost cause to try and break them. Any tighter and he'd most likely pass out from the limited air flow.

_ "Only option seems to be changing back."  _ Bruce grimaced at the thought. It was one thing to be an injured dragon who could still breathe fire, but to be an injured human was far from the best situation. Regardless, Bruce would have to make a decision and fast. He just hopes he doesn't regret it.

Between one ragged breath and the next Bruce shed his hulking dragon form and forced his body to move. Focusing on his breathing to try to ignore the pain he slowly crawled away from the trap and inched his way out of the hole he created. He only managed to just clear the upturned dirt before collapsing to his knees.

Without his more durable dragon body the pain hits him again and with much more intensity. He can't help the hiss of pain that slips past his clenched teeth, wrapping his right arm around his (most likely) bruised ribs. The shock to his system threatens to knock him unconscious, his vision starting to tunnel and what he thinks to be a concussion pounds in his head.

With the adrenaline starting to fade Bruce slowly sinks to the ground, he knows the danger hasn't passed and that he needs to move and regroup. But he's just so tired and definitely regrets not listening to Alfred. 

He must have passed out for a minute because the next thing he noticed are a pair of red boots in front of him. He blinks and when he opens his eyes again he's met with the most vivid blue he's ever seen, it steals what little air he has left in his lungs. He is so entranced by the other worldly eyes he doesnt register that the man has been speaking to him. At this revelation it's as if the world snaps back into place and the sound comes rushing back, and so does the pain.

"Are you alright sir? Do you know what happened to you?"

Bruce could only force small ragged gasps through his mouth, the thought of talking too much on his tired body. When no response comes the stranger's face grows more and more concerned. Bruce was too distracted by the furrow between his brows and how he wanted that to go away to be of much help. The man gave Bruce a once over before his face softened and a gentle smile replaced the firm line of his mouth. Bruce felt his heart give a painful thump at the sight. He must be getting delirious. 

"Sir I'm not quite sure what happened here but it looks like you're in need of medical attention. I can take you somewhere safe but I'm going to have to move you " 

Bruce could barely process the words coming out of the stranger's mouth. He once again finds himself staring at the stranger's eyes, just noticing the small fleck of brown in the left one. 

While Bruce distracted himself with the stranger's eyes, he could feel strong arms snaking underneath the backs of his knees and upper back. With one smooth motion he was resting on a strong chest, a red and gold sigil swimming in his vision. He couldn't hold in the small grunt of pain, so he decided to rest his aching head on a warm shoulder. With a quick sorry the stranger took to the air and Bruce was slowly lulled to sleep by the familiar feeling of wind tugging on his hair. On the edge of consciousness he noticed that his savior was none other then the Superman. Alfred will never let him hear the end of it now.


	2. Chapter 2

Clark was starting to worry, the injured man in his arms was starting to lose consciousness and he wasn't sure whether or not he had a concussion. Judging from their earlier interactions it was looking very likely and the last thing Clark wanted was for him to fall asleep. The Kent farm was only a couple more minutes away, Clark just had to make sure to keep him awake until then.

Giving the man a gentle shake Clark let out a sigh of relief when one eye cracked open, even if it looked slightly unfocused.

"Hey there, I know you're tired but I need you to stay awake for me okay?" Clark whispered, he made sure to lean closer to the man so he could hear him over the wind. What he wasn't expecting was for the man to lean into his neck and essentially rub his face on it. Clark yelped, quickly straightening his posture and effectively removing the man's face from his neck. He could feel a blush forming high on his cheeks, completely taken by surprise at the man's bold actions. The blush deepened when Clark heard the confused noise coming from his arms. Clark put on a tiny burst of speed, the faster he got to the farm the better it would be for everyone.

Clark let out a sigh of relief as the farm came into view, he just hoped his mother didn't mind the late visit. Quickly touching down on the front porch, Clark managed to free one hand to knock on the door quickly. As he waited for his mother to answer the door he finally took the time to get a good look at his soon to be patient. Ignoring the dirt and minor scrapes he noticed he was older than Clark originally thought. Though his hair was full and dark, there was silver in his temples and streaked throughout his beard as well. He had a strong jaw and a conventionally handsome face. From what he could feel through the man's clothes on the way over he could feel a substantial amount of muscle.

Clark was so focused on looking over the man that he almost missed the half lidded eyes looking right at him. Hoping he didn't look like he was just caught unawares he gave the man a nervous smile, shuffling him just the barest amount to adjust his grip.

"Well hi there, are you feeling any better?" Clark asked. When no answer came he could feel his smile falter just a bit. "Can you at least tell me your name?"

"... Bruce."

Clark lit up as soon as the name left the man's mouth, if he could understand what Clark was asking and reply as well then he was less worried about any lasting damage. Before he could think of another question to ask, the front door opened and light poured over the two men. Bruce quickly turned his face towards Clark's chest to escape the sudden brightness, once again causing Clark to become a flustered mess.

Martha just gave her son a worried look, both eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Clark, what are you doing here at this hour? Are you in trouble?" Martha looked between him and the man in his arms, surprise turning to confusion. "And who is that?"

"I'll explain everything later, can you help me with him? He's hurt but I'm not sure how badly," Clark said.

Martha ushered both of them into the house, leaving Clark to settle their guest in the living room while she went to get the first aid kit. Clark gently set Bruce on the couch, helping him to sit up so he could do a more thorough examination. When Bruce looked like he was about to tip over Clark placed his hands on his shoulders to steady him. This seemed to bring Bruce's attention straight to him. Swallowing any nerves he might have Clark gave him a reassuring smile.

"Hey Bruce," Clark was glad to see Bruce focus his eyes on him, recognizing his name. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions and see how badly you're hurt if that's okay?" 

Once Clark got a small nod of approval he went to work, he asked Bruce to follow his finger as he moved it from side to side. Happy that he had no trouble following, Clark decided to move onto the rest of his body. He started by x-raying Bruce's chest and was relieved to not see any broken ribs or punctured lungs, he moved farther down. Bruce's internal organs and legs were fine, the only trouble Clark found was when he reached Bruce's left arm. Luckily it wasn't broken, just a dislocated shoulder. Though not the worst injury it would still be painful to put back. 

Just as he finished up Martha returned with the first aid kit and quickly pulled out some bandages and hydrogen peroxide to deal with the minor cuts.

"How's our patient doing?" Martha asked, wetting a cotton ball with the disinfectant.

Clark moved aside to let his mother gently dab at the small cuts on Bruce's face, moving to the dislocated shoulder instead. 

"He seems to be fine, no serious injuries besides this shoulder which I should fix before I take my leave." Clark gently placed his hand on Bruce's shoulder to avoid startling him, taking his wrist he slowly moved the arm into position. "I'll pop it back on the count of three okay?" 

Clark waits until he sees a nod before he starts his count. "One." Clark pulls and the shoulder slides back into place. He winces in sympathy as Bruce lets out a long hiss of pain and dislodges Martha's hands from her meticulous cleaning. Clark rubs slow circles on Bruce's back in hopes of helping him with the pain. 

"Sorry about that, thought it best to get it over with." Clark gave Bruce another reassuring smile before making his way to the door. "Sorry to bother you so late at night Ms. Kent, thank you again for your help. If you need anything else in the future don't be afraid to call me."

Clark managed to share a worried look with his mother, hoping to convey the promise of help if Bruce turns out to be trouble. 

"Have a good night Bruce, I hope you feel better soon." With one last wave Clark takes off, heading back to the crash site to investigate what became of his dragon trap.

..

The night is not going well for Bruce, he doesn't want to admit it but that crash took more out of him then he expected. Most of the night is a muddled blur in his head, from the trap to how he ended up on this comfortable couch. Ontop of all that his shoulder throbbed and a deep ache has settled into his bones, all he wanted to do was sleep for the next couple of days. Unfortunately rest would have to come later, for now he needed some answers. 

"Thank you for your help, I'm not quite sure what would have happened to me if Superman didn't show up when he did." Bruce gave the older woman a grateful smile, hoping that she would be willing to answer some of his questions. "But if you don't mind me asking, how does a simple farmer come to know Superman?"

"Well you know how he is, if there's a cry for help he'll come running! The only thing is after he helped me out I offered him a slice of my famous apple pie and now I can't get that boy to stay away," she laughed as she recalled what was, most likely, a rather fond memory. Bruce couldn't help but smile as well, something about this woman putting him at ease.

"But where are my manners, I haven't even introduced myself. If I heard correctly your name is Bruce?" She asked as she went back to cleaning his face, using a wet cloth to wipe away the streaks of dirt. Bruce nodded his head.

"Well Bruce it's very nice to meet you, my name is Martha Kent. If there's anything you need don't be shy about asking--" Martha froze, her hands hovering near his face. Bruce isn't sure what kind of expression he's making so he forces himself to take a breath and let it out. He tries to focus on his shaky breathing instead of the echoes of gunfire inside his head.

"Oh dear are you okay? You look a bit faint, was I too rough?" Martha asked. Setting aside the cloth she gave him a moment to himself, eyes looking worriedly at him. 

Bruce doesn't know why he's having such a poor reaction to her name, Martha is a common enough name. His mother has been gone for a very long time, most days he can accept it but there are the rare moments. Where he's just so emotionally and physically exhausted that he doesn't expect to remember the trauma and have it take hold. Just one name is all it takes.

Bruce clears his throat. "I'm fine, thank you Martha." Bruce tries not to trip over her name, but the hitch in his voice when he says it must've given him away. "My mother's name was also Martha, but she passed a very long time ago."

Martha gives him a sympathetic look, her eyes soft as she reaches over and gently holds his hands. "I'm very sorry, it's not easy losing someone you love." 

Bruce swallows past the lump in his throat and gives her a small smile in return. "Thank you." He carefully removed his hands from under hers to stifle a yawn, with the worst of his injuries taken care of, the events of tonight finally catch up. It's getting hard for Bruce to keep his eyes open, this spurs Martha into action.

"You look exhausted, it's late and I insist that you stay the night. I have some of my son's clothes you can borrow and I'm sure I have an arm sling lying around here somewhere." Martha moves past Bruce before he even has time to decline the offer. He lets out a resigned sigh and slowly stands to follow his host. 

They climb up a set of stairs where the walls are lined with old family photos. As Bruce walks farther up he takes in the photos of a younger Martha and a man he assumes is her husband along with a young boy. Bruce can't help but soften at this one precious moment preserved in time, it reminded him of his own family and how he needed to get into contact with them soon.

He reached the top of the stairs just in time to see Martha making her way towards him with some clothes for him. He thanks her as she puts them in his good arm and directs him towards the bathroom.

"I hope these fit, you and Clark seem to be the same size. Feel free to use the bathroom, there should be a spare toothbrush under the sink. You can use Clark's old room for now, it's just right down the hall and the first door on the left. I'll be right back with that sling." Martha gave him another smile before making her way down the stairs.

For a moment Bruce was rooted to the spot, something warm making its home in his chest. He hugged the clothes closer to himself as he went over the events of tonight. Martha had no reason to help him, he was a complete stranger to her but she let him into her home and took care of him. All on the word of Superman and her own kind heart. His chest clenched at the thought, no one besides Alfred and his children have cared so much about him before. Bruce almost forgot what it was like to have a mother.

He made his way to the small bathroom, turning on the lights and shutting the door behind him. Looking at his reflection he noticed right away that his face looked pale and was covered in small cuts. His eyes looked sunken in with dark bruises surrounding them, his beard was even more unkempt than before and in desperate need of some maintenance. Though tonight he was grateful for it, he isn't sure how recognizable he looked but he didn't want word getting out that Bruce Wayne was found skulking around Smallville, Kansas. 

Bruce tried to move his left arm, testing the range of movement. He let out an irritated growl when he found that he couldn't even unbutton his shirt with it, accepting that he'd have to undress one handed. With some difficulty and a few curses thrown in he managed to wiggle out of his dirty clothes and into the worn pajamas Martha lent him. The fit, overall, wasn't awful. The soft flannel pants were a bit short, ending just above his ankles while the t shirt was a bit tight across his shoulders. Bruce couldn't complain, the clothes were at least very comfortable. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the bathroom door, he opened it to see Martha with the arm sling she promised. 

She looked him up and down before letting out a small huff of amusement. "Well I was right, you're both close in size. Sorry for the tight fit, how about I help you into this as an apology?" She asked good naturedly. 

"This is fine, I can't thank you enough for your help tonight. You've been more than kind enough," Bruce reassured her, "and I'd appreciate the help, if you don't mind me bothering you one last time tonight." 

Martha motioned for him to move to his bedroom for the night and gestured for him to take a seat on the bed. Once seated she went about fitting his arm into the sling, checking every now and again to make sure he was comfortable. 

"Well this has been a very exciting night for the both of us, I'll let you sleep and we can talk things over tomorrow." Martha gave Bruce one last pat on his good shoulder before making her way to the door. "If you need anything my room is just the next door down, have a good night Bruce." With one last wave she closed the door behind her.

As soon as the door clicked closed, Bruce let out a long sigh. With no one else here with him he could drop the charming act, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders while the friendly smile from earlier turned to a scowl. Of all the things that could have happened tonight, getting injured while being shot out of the air and ending up at a farm in the middle of nowhere Kansas is probably one of the worst. But still a step above dead. 

Bruce hunched over, elbow of his right arm resting on his knee as he put his head in his hand. "What am I doing?" Bruce muttered to himself. This could have all been avoided if he just  _ listened  _ for once, damn his stubbornness and pride. But something was still bothering him, the dragon trap. 

Dragon traps are illegal in most countries on account of hunting any type of magical creature is also illegal. Unfortunately that hasn't stopped hunters and poachers, Bruce feels as if the restrictive laws encourage them instead. The black market for dragon parts alone is staggering and he's dedicated centuries of his life to try to bring an end to it. Sadly things still slip through the cracks, like the trap he found himself in earlier tonight. Bruce regrets that he wasn't able to examine it before Superman showed up. 

This leads to his next set of questions, why was there a high tech and very effective dragon trap in rural Kansas, and how did Superman know to show up when he did? Granted, he could have just been in the right place at the right time, but Bruce never did believe in coincidences. Worst case scenario is that he set the trap himself, and if he did, was it with malicious intent? So far that seems like the most likely choice. Not to mention how badly it could end up being for both Superman and the Justice League by association.

Bruce thought back to the vague memory of the bands, harder than steel and almost like they had a mind of their own. Very few materials found on this earth had the strength to hold a dragon, especially one as powerful as himself. The fact that it could also constrict its target when it sensed the faintest trace of movement was worrisome. Being of alien origin would explain it, though Bruce wouldn't rule out magic either.

Every answer he found seemed to just bring up more questions, and the late hour reminded Bruce that he hadn't had a good night's sleep in weeks. Maybe it was time to just, rest his eyes for a bit. Just until he had enough energy to organize all these jumbled thoughts in his head and ask Martha more about Superman. The trap was very close to this farm, as much as he doesn't want to believe it she might be an accomplice. Bruce desperately hopes he's wrong, he can't explain it but he's grown rather fond of Martha. Bruce slowly crawled under the covers, mindful of his arm. Getting comfortable as best he could, sleep quickly came and Bruce dreamt of blue eyes and a smile as bright as the stars.

..

Morning came too soon for Bruce, it felt as if he only just shut his eyes before a streak of sunlight landed on his face. He cracked his eyes just enough to peek at the curtains, realizing the window was too far for his liking he opted to face the other way and hide under his pillow. At least the sun was a welcome balm on his sore body. Bruce found himself dozing for the next little while, aware of the house below him and its occupant moving about. Bruce's content haze was eventually interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Good morning Bruce, how are you this morning? Is your arm bothering you at all?" Martha asked. She looked better in the sunlight, hair neatly combed back and smile firmly in place. Bruce still wouldn't believe she had anything to do with what happened to him last night. "I didn't want to bother you but I was wondering if you would like something to eat?"

Bruce blinked the sleep from his eyes and sat up. "To be honest I'm very sore," he chuckled. "Nothing some more rest and painkillers won't fix though." 

"And a nice hot meal too, I should think." She gave him a stern look. Any thought of sleeping the day away vanished and Bruce caved, giving Martha a faint smile in return. 

"And a hot meal too, thank you Martha." Bruce watched as she seemed satisfied with his answer, turning around to let him freshen up. Just as she was about to close the door, her head popped back into the room. 

"I forgot to let you know, my son will be staying with us for the next little bit. It's just been so hectic these past few weeks that he's offered to help out at the farm," she stated, almost laughing at the surprise on Bruce's face. " oh don't worry so much Bruce! I'm sure you'll both get along." Martha left to head downstairs, leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts.

Now wasn't the time to panic, but Bruce couldn't resist falling back onto the bed. He brought his hands to his face in an attempt to smother his groan. This was fine, it was just one other person, it shouldn't cause too much trouble for him. Unless the Kent's are actually a family of dragon hunters and now that Martha finally managed to trap one she needs the extra hands to make sure she can contain it. 

"No that's stupid," Bruce mumbled to himself, arm draped across his eyes as he wallowed for a moment longer. "Get it together Wayne, clean yourself up, head downstairs and talk to them." Yes, that sounded reasonable. Any doubts he had could easily get cleared up, as long as he worded everything carefully. Bruce let himself lay in bed for another couple minutes before steeling himself for the rest of the day. 

He made his way to the bathroom, door shut and the lights on, he didn't look any better than he did last night. The minor scrapes didn't bother him so much when compared to the dark shadows under his eyes. He brought a hand up to rub at his eyes, turning on the faucet to let some warm water run. He would have to ask Martha about a shower later, it felt as if he had a dust bath and then went straight to bed. 

Bruce quickly brushed his teeth with the spare toothbrush and washed his face one last time before turning off the faucet. Patting his face dry, he looked at himself one last time before facing the Kents.

Done freshening up, Bruce quietly makes his way down stairs. Just as he reaches the bottom he hears hushed voices and stops. Curious as to what Martha and her son could be talking about, Bruce stains his ears to try and catch any hints of the conversation. 

"I don't know Ma, are you sure it's safe to let him stay for that long? I mean, he's pretty much a stranger! We don't know anything about him!" 

Bruce cocked his head at the new voice that must belong to Martha's son. He sounded pleasant enough, Bruce can respect his need to be cautious around a stranger. 

"Now Clark, I know I raised you better than that! People deserve the benefit of the doubt, and to be honest if he wanted to hurt me he would've done it last night," Martha scolded.

"Sorry Ma, maybe it's the city in me. You can't be completely sure what kind…"

There was something familiar about the voice, Bruce couldn't place it. He let the conversation wash over him and tried to focus on the warm tones and light mid western accent. The cadence in the voice settles like dragon fire inside him, reminding him of times long ago with his parents. The bizarre feeling of  _ home _ calls so strongly to him and he aches for it. So lost in this mysterious voice he didn't notice when he closed his eyes, his whole body sagged into the wall for support. 

"Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?" 

Bruce's eyes flew open, he didn't even notice when Martha's son left the kitchen. He didn't know why but he could feel a blush slowly warming his cheeks. Not knowing what to say, Bruce was grateful when the man in front of him smiled and held out his hand as a peace offering. 

"Sorry I didn't mean to startle you, my name's Clark. I'm pretty sure my Ma's mentioned me once or twice." He gave Bruce a boyish smile, eyes sparkling with laughter at having caught him unawares.

Bruce quickly straightened up and grasped Clark's outstretched hand. As soon as their hands touched, a feeling like electricity shot down Bruce's arm. His body tensed up and Bruce just barely stopped himself from crushing Clark's hand. The moment ended just as abruptly as it started, leaving Bruce breathless. He looked up at Clark again, noticing the question in his eyes. Eyes that also looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't place it. 

Noticing the silence between them has become uncomfortable, Bruce shakes the man's hand. "Nice to finally meet you, Martha has mentioned you once or twice. As I'm sure she's mentioned me," Bruce replied, giving Clark's hand one final shake. "You can call me Bruce."

With introductions over, Clark gives him that heart stopping smile again and gestures back towards the kitchen.

"Well if you're hungry Ma's cooked up quite the breakfast, we can eat and you can tell us about yourself," Clark asks him. "And if it's not too much trouble, I was wondering if I could have my hand back."

Bruce just noticed that he has yet to let go of Clark's hand, eyes glued to the joined hands between the both of them. Caught in the act and with his blush returning with a vengeance, he let's go as if burned. Chancing a quick look up at Clark, he finds he can't quite meet his eyes.

"Sorry," Bruce mumbles, making a hasty escape towards breakfast. With his eyes cast down towards the floor, Bruce missed the mirth plastered on Clark's face.

Once inside the kitchen, Bruce let the warm aromas of fried bacon and strong coffee distract him from his embarrassing mishap in the hallway. He nods in Martha's direction, letting her man handle him into his seat and fuss over his injured arm.

"Well look who decided to finally join us, I hope you're hungry Bruce," Martha asked, not missing a beat and placing a traditional farmer's breakfast down in front of him.

Bruce eyes his breakfast wearily, it's been almost a week since his last real meal and the greasy eggs and bacon almost make him gag. He looked up at Martha, a polite request of just black coffee on the tip of his tongue. Though the pointed look she gives him makes him bite his tongue instead.

"Now Bruce, you've just had a horrible accident and need energy to recover. I  _ insist _ you eat your breakfast," Martha scolded him, not letting up until Bruce's shoulders sagged and he begrudgingly picked up a piece of toast. 

"... Thank you Martha it looks delicious," Bruce mumbled. To placate Martha he takes to nibbling on the corner of his toast, it seemed like the easiest to keep down.

Satisfied that her guest was finally eating, Martha turns her attention back to Clark. As the Kents ask about each other and catch up, Bruce takes this as an opportunity to observe. Neither of them look the type to catch dragons and resell them for parts, though Bruce has learned that not everyone can be trusted.

Looking over at Clark, Bruce doesn't notice much. An all around classic example of a midwestern American, strong muscles from living on this farm, work boots and washed out jeans. He was even wearing red flannel, as if he needed to fuel the stereotype any further. Thick framed glasses hid his eyes and a mop of curly black hair rounded out his charming look. 

_ Wait, charming? _

Bruce stops, goes over what happened this morning and almost chokes on his eggs. This prompts both Clark and Martha to end their conversation and look over at him. 

"Oh dear, are you okay Bruce? Let me grab you some coffee to help wash those eggs down." Martha goes to fill a large mug with black coffee. "I forget sometimes you city slickers don't take care of yourselves as well as you should."

At the off hand comment Clark clears his throat, bringing Bruce's attention back to him.

"So Bruce, I know how you ended up here is a bit strange. But I'm just wondering if you remembered what happened?" Clark asked, his eyes sharpened behind the thick glasses. "Before Superman showed up."

Bruce hid behind his cup of coffee, trying to string together a believable story. He runs through a mental checklist of things he told Martha yesterday, to make sure his story was cohesive. Luckily he hadn't said much.

Placing his coffee down and clearing his throat, Bruce tries to remember something besides the fear and panic.

"I'm not too sure myself if I'm being honest. My memories are a bit muddled, I'm having a hard time remembering anything," Bruce sighs, trying to convince them that he actually was in the wrong place at the wrong time. "I must have hit my head harder than I realized, sorry."

Bruce watched as Clark clenched his jaw ever so slightly, a hard look in his eyes. It looked as if Clark Kent wasn't one to back down from a challenge, Bruce had to smother the butterflies in his stomach.

"So let me get this straight Bruce…" Clark trailed off, leaving Bruce to fill in the empty space with a surname. Not falling for it he just gave a lopsided smile and a careless shrug. 

"Okay Bruce, you're telling me you don't remember how you ended up in a ditch in Kansas and that you also, conveniently, are suffering from memory loss?" Clark's tone was so dry Bruce was tempted to take a sip of coffee. But before anything could happen Martha swat her son on the head, which came as surprise to both men.

"Clark! I can't believe you, can you let the man finish his breakfast before you interrogate him?" Martha scolded her son, not giving an inch when he sputtered in retaliation. 

"Ma! I'm just being careful!" Clark defended himself, turning pitiful puppy dog eyes on his mother. The betrayal clear on his face as he brought his hand up to rub at his head. 

Turning back to Bruce she offered him a smile in apology. "Please don't take anything he says to heart, Clark can't help it sometimes." She reaches over and playfully pinches one of his cheeks, drawing out another pout from her son. "It's the journalist in him, poking his nose where he shouldn't."

"Oh don't worry, I don't mind. It's only natural to be suspicious, I am a complete stranger after all," Bruce reassures her, letting his body relax. It wouldn't do him any favors if he appeared uneasy about Clark's question. 

"But I also understand why Clark would be apprehensive of me. I can try to remember what happened," Bruce offered. Martha gave Clark one last pointed look before gesturing Bruce to continue.Settling into his seat he took one last sip of coffee.

"Like I mentioned earlier I can't seem to remember much." Bruce stopped, rubbing his right temple in an attempt to be more authentic. He lets his eyes drift over to a sun spot on the table, not trusting himself to sell the story if he had to look the Kents in the eyes.

"But I do distinctly remember being grabbed by something," Bruce murmured, he slowly brought his good arm up to his left shoulder. Rubbing soothing circles into it as he took a shaky breath.

"It was so sudden, I didn't have time to react. I just remember the wind as we flew higher and faster, the claws digging into me and the roar it let out. I'm sure I can still feel it rattling around in my bones," Bruce joked, attempting to lift the mood. He looked over at the Kents, taking in Clark's pursed lips and Martha's fear. 

Thinking he might've played it up too much, Bruce pushed through the rest of his story. "After what felt like hours the creature got hit with something and fell. It must've gotten away because next thing I know I'm in Superman's lovely arms," Bruce sighed. He couldn't help but fool around a bit with his story. And he wasn't completely lying, the Man of Steel did have amazing arms.

Martha let out a warm laugh at his attempt of a joke. "Yes, Superman does such lovely arms. So strong and reliable, wouldn't you agree Clark?" She nudges her elbow into Clark's side, causing Clark to go a nice shade of pink. Bruce couldn't help but think the colour suited him.

Ever the professional, Clark cleared his throat and steered the conversation back on track.

"I'm sorry to hear that, to be honest this area has been suffering from more dragon attacks recently. I wouldn't be surprised if that's what grabbed you."

Bruce couldn't stop his scowl at this new piece of information, it looks like Question was right after all. But what would draw a dragon out here? There wasn't anything interesting for miles and no nearby ley lines.

"A dragon? That sounds terrifying! I'm lucky it didn't decide to eat me right away," Bruce said nervously. "Have you seen it?"

"No, I keep missing it but Ma's seen it. Huge black thing with a wingspan as long as the corn field and twisted horns on its head. It's been killing the livestock and we're at the end of our rope," Clark grumbled, clearly frustrated with the mysterious dragon. "So we asked Superman to help us trap it. It must've worked if what you're telling us is true. Too bad he couldn't get to it before it escaped."

Bruce had to bite his bottom lip to keep the growl trapped inside his throat. He can't believe that he's been so oblivious to this, how did he miss multiple dragon sightings in one contained location? At least now he has a description, if somewhat vague, of the perpetrator. He needs to make a call to Alfred as soon as possible.

"Well good thing Superman was here to save the day, wouldn't you boys agree? And as much fun as this is, I think it's time for a walk around the farm." Martha made to clear the table before Clark stopped her.

"Let me clear the table Ma, it's the least I can do for how I've been acting this morning," Clark insisted, grabbing the dirtied dishes before Martha had the chance.

She lightly scoffed at her son before surrendering the remaining plates to his insistent hands. "Oh Clark we both know you're just putting off dealing with old Bessie. You know, she wouldn't be so mad if you came to visit every now and again," Martha teased, leaving to head out towards the farm. This left both Clark and Bruce alone in the kitchen.

Not sure what else to do, Bruce followed Clark to the sink where he'd started to clean up. Grabbing a nearby towel, Bruce starts drying the wet dishes that Clark hands him. It's nice for the first few minutes, until Clark decides on another round of questions.

"So how much have you forgotten? Do you at least remember where you're from?" Clark asked absent mildly, scrubbing at another dish and avoiding Bruce' stare.

Bruce mulled over the question, thinking about how to make this easier on himself. He didn't want to give Clark too much, his intuitive nature was already becoming troublesome. But to win over his trust, Bruce will have to settle for giving half truths.

"Gotham."

Clark handed him another plate, his grip firm as Bruce tried to take it from him. "Gotham huh? A bit out of the way isn't it?"

Bruce eventually snatched the plate out of Clark's hand, giving him another careless shrug. "Well it wasn't as if I could tell the dragon to drop me off at the nearest bus station or anything," Bruce chuckled, hoping Clark would leave it at that for the day.

With the dishes finished, both men dried their hands and turned to face each other. 

"Listen Bruce, I don't want to upset my Ma and if she wants you to stay I won't say anything. But if you end up being trouble I won't hesitate to call the police. Am I clear?" Clark warned, his muscular arms crossed over his thick chest. Bruce had to stop himself from openly staring at all that thick muscle on display. It wouldn't help him if he antagonized Clark further.

"Understood, you won't have to worry about me at all," Bruce replied. He made a show of stifling a yawn, hoping to get some time to himself. "And if you don't mind I'm still a bit tired, I think I'll head back upstairs for another nap."

Without waiting for a reply he made his way back upstairs. Once inside he threw himself carelessly on the bed, letting out a sigh of frustration. 

He needed to contact Alfred urgently, unfortunately he broke his phone when he fell last night. And he had no other way to contact him, his wing was still too sore to fly with. 

Not to mention Superman frequents this area, he can't risk getting captured again. His last hope is that Alfred actually turned on the tracker and contacts him soon, or sends one of the boys. Preferably Tim, he's the only one responsible enough for Bruce to trust. 

Something else has been bothering him today, his reaction to Clark. He's never met the man before, if he did he would've definitely remembered. Even thinking about his charming smile and clear blue eyes is making Bruce a bit warm. Not liking these new feelings he decided to crawl under the blankets and try to get some sleep.

As Bruce laid under the sun warmed sheets he could feel himself slowly drifting, shuffling further beneath the blankets and pillows. It wasn't until he had his whole head under the two pillows and essentially wrapped himself up like a burrito that it finally hit him. He was nesting.

Bruce's eyes snapped open and he bolted up, sending the pillows to the floor and almost ending up there himself as the blankets tangled around him even more. 

"No this can't be happening, why here? Why now?" Bruce snarled to himself. He never thought it would happen to him, dragons like him didn't end up with happy endings. They didn't end up finding their soulmates. Because that's what this was, the reason why he was so starstruck with Clark. Why he felt so calm and at ease in this room, in Clark's room.

Bruce could feel himself panicking, worse than when he was caught in Superman's trap. His breathing was starting to quicken, the air rattling around in his chest but not filling it up. Not knowing what to do he reached down to the floor and grabbed the pillows. Once they were back on the bed he shoved his head underneath them once again, surrounding himself with Clark's scent. Within minutes he felt his heart rate slow and that same calming feeling return. 

Bruce hated this, he's lived for centuries without one. Without his soulmate. He's been fine, he's had Alfred and then the boys. He didn't  _ need _ a soulmate. Especially one that was mortal, to leave Bruce alone with a broken heart and to waste away without him. Bruce clenched the sheets tangled in his hand, it wasn't fair. 

And yet, there was a small part of him that hoped. Hoped for a love like his parent's, fated soulmates who found each other and had a happy life. Even if it was cut short, leaving him behind. But the potential of it was enough to entice Bruce, to make him want it. 

But no, he couldn't get distracted. There were more important things at stake, he has a responsibility to more than just himself. He needed to reconvene with the other dragon lords and tell them what he knows. He also needed to speak to Superman and the Justice League about their dragon traps, to protect not only his family but the other dragons. The balance between the world of mortals and magic was on the edge of a precipice, and Bruce is worried.

But with him still recovering there isn't much he can do at the moment. 

He'll need to stay close to the Kents, try to get them to open up about their relationship with Superman and his dragon traps. And if he gets to spend more time with Clark, he won't complain. 

Settling deeper into his nest, Bruce finally let himself doze off. There was still so much to do, but for now he wants to be selfish. To take the time to pretend that this was real, that Clark just stepped out for a minute and that this was their bed instead. 

That for once Bruce could have something just for himself. He could feel something in his chest tighten and ignored it as he slept.


	3. Chapter 3

Clark was at a loss about what to do next. He was currently in the barn going over his failed dragon trap. He let out another sigh, shifting through the Kryptonian bands and finding nothing wrong with them. They still looked as intact as when Jor-El presented them to him, not even a scratch on them. Which brings to mind, how did the dragon escape without destroying the trap? There were just too many questions that Clark wouldn't be able to answer, which left one choice. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his comm, popping it into his ear he turned it on.

"Wonder Woman, it's Superman. Are you there?" 

A few seconds passed before the comm crackled, Clark let out a sigh of relief that she was able to answer so quickly.

"Hello Superman, how are you?" She answered, voice a cheerful lilt. Clark couldn't help but smile when he heard her voice.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking. I'm actually calling to ask a favour if you don't mind," Clark asked. "I'm wondering how much you know about dragons?"

For a moment it was quite over the comms, putting Clark on edge. He didn't think the question was that difficult, but maybe he should've expected it.

"Why are you asking about dragons Clark?" Diana finally asked.

"There's a minor dragon problem over in Smallville and I'm worried about my mother," Clark explained. "She has no idea what to do and when she asked me to help her I couldn't figure out a permanent solution."

"Clark you know not to meddle in their affairs, if there's an issue you should try to get into contact with the dragon lords," she replied. "The peace between humanity and those of magic is fraying, we don't want to escalate it."

Clark sighed into the comm and took a seat on the nearest hay bale. This is what he was afraid of, it just sounded worse coming out of Diana's mouth. Of all the founding members she would be the most knowledgeable when it comes to magic.

"Is there any way I can ask you for another favour?" 

Diana's light laughter drifted through the comm and Clark couldn't help but let out his own small chuckle.

"Come now, they're not that scary. You just need to be respectful and don't cause any trouble," Diana teased. "Dragons are very wise and understanding, they've lived long lives. Even longer than me."

"Well I'm sure you can understand why I'm so hesitant to walk into a den of fire breathing creatures that have literal magic flowing through their veins," Clark joked, shifting through the dragon trap. A loose band managed to slip, causing a crash to echo throughout the barn.

"Clark, what are you doing?" Diana asked, her curiosity clear over the comm.

Clark continued to organize the bands, collecting them into smaller piles and moving them to the wooden doors that lead to a hidden area underneath the barn. This space was used to hide his spaceship, it'll have to do for a hiding spot for the trap before he could move it without being seen. 

"Just cleaning up around the barn. Also before I forget, would you know who would be the closest dragon lord that I could talk to?" 

"Well, the closest one to you would be the House of Wayne over in Gotham." 

Clark stopped fiddling with the trap, pausing in careful thought. It couldn't be a coincidence that he would need to visit Gotham right after finding out his mysterious guest was also from the grim city. Though, finding out that a dragon lord has made that particular city its home isn't very surprising. Bruce being so friendly though, that's a bit more shocking. Clark hasn't been to the city personally, but he's flown over it enough times and listened to one too many rumors to have learned that Gotham isn't a very nice city. 

"Gotham huh? Funny, I have a guest at the farm that mentioned he's from there," Clark mused. Maybe he should ask Bruce about the dragons that reside in Gotham.

"Oh, you have a guest at the farm? Well, maybe I'll do you a favour this one time," Diana replied. 

Clark lit up at Diana's offer, ecstatic about the thought of not having to confront any dragons in the near future. He may be Superman but even he's a bit frightened by the thought of speaking to a real live dragon.

"Really? That would be great Diana, I really appreciate this," Clark sighed with relief, not missing Diana's teasing laughter over the comm.

"Don't mention it Clark, just bring me an extra slice of your mother's pie at the next League meeting and we'll call it even," she teased.

"Of course, I'll talk to you soon Diana. Thank you again."

"Have a good day Clark."

Clark could breathe a bit easier now, the thought of having someone like Diana helping him look into the dragon issue was like a breath of fresh air. Hopefully with her help he could give his mother some good news.

With one last trip, the bands were safely stored away in the trap door of the barn. Which means he could help his mother finish whatever chores were still left to do. But before that he wanted to check in on Bruce. He focused his vision on his room, happy to see that Bruce was actually taking a nap like he said. He couldn't help laughing a bit at the man's sleeping position, curled up underneath all the pillows and blankets. It was a bit endearing.

Satisfied, Clark headed to where he last saw his mother. It wasn't long before he found her feeding the chickens.

"Hey Ma, how are they doing today?" Clark asked, gently shooing away the noisy birds.

Martha turned towards him and let out a small laugh at the scene. Taking pity on him she scattered some seeds in the opposite direction, watching as the birds ran.

"They're all doing fine, less shaken than they've been the past couple weeks," she said. "What do you think of Bruce? Nothing suspicious about him, right?" 

Clark chewed on his bottom lip, mulling over the words. "Well, he seems nice." Clark hastily back tracked as he saw the pleased look on his mother's face. "But I still don't trust him, he's definitely hiding something."

Martha just sighed and walked back towards the barn. "Well I can't change your mind, so how about you watch him for me? You both seemed to get along so well at breakfast." 

"Ma nothing happened, I was just introducing myself!" Clark could feel the blush high in his cheeks. "And I don't think breakfast went that well anyways, honestly I don't think he likes me all that much."

"Of course dear, now why don't you help me out with Bessie. You've been slacking for long enough mister!" Martha teased.

As Clark made his way to the old cow he couldn't help but think back to this morning. Sure, Bruce is  _ very _ attractive but the whole memory loss issue makes Clark hesitant. It's not as if he wouldn't be interested, but would he be taking advantage of Bruce while he doesn't remember much of anything? 

Though if Clark was reading Bruce correctly in the hallway before breakfast, he might have a chance. But that is a discussion for another time, or maybe even never. First he needs to deal with his dragon problem, and that means waiting on Diana for now.

..

Bruce was content to lay in his mound of blankets for the rest of the day, unfortunately his hosts had other plans. As he basked in the last rays of the late afternoon sun, he heard a knock at the door. 

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh at the cracks and pops coming from his body. Bruce enjoyed the soft scents of the bedsheets for a few more seconds before getting up and opening the door.

"Hi Clark, did you need something?" Bruce asked. He wasn't surprised to see Clark here, but it didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat.

Clark on the other hand, seemed a bit unfocused. His gaze flitted up and down, making Bruce a bit self conscious. 

"Do I have bed head?" Bruce chuckled nervously, running a hand through his hair.

"No! Sorry, it's been a long day. I've been helping Ma around the farm and I guess I'm more tired than I thought," Clark apologized. "She sent me, dinner's almost ready if you're hungry."

At the mention of dinner Bruce realized that he slept most of the day away. 

"Dinner sounds great."

Clark gave him his usual charming smile before leading the way down to the dining room. Bruce tried not to trip over his feet as his heartbeat rocketed up again.

Once they reached the dining room Bruce tried not to drool at the mouth watering smells. Besides breakfast this morning, he doesn't remember the last time he ate. He tried to help set the table before he was shooed away by Martha.

He took his seat across from Clark who shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't long before Martha placed the last dish on the table and dinner started.

"So Bruce how are you feeling after your nap?" Martha asked as she loaded a plate full of pork chops and vegetables for him. 

Remembering how breakfast went, Bruce graciously took the food and dug in.

"I feel better Martha, even my arm isn't as sore anymore," Brucd replied, remembering to swallow his food first. "By the way, this food is amazing Martha."

"Thank you Bruce! Now that I know you like it don't be shy and have some more," Martha insisted, piling more and more food into his plate. 

Bruce gave her a nervous smile, eyeing the now mountain of food in front of him. He shot pleading eyes over to Clark, only to watch him try, and fail, to smother his laughter.

The meal passed by quickly after that, everyone preoccupied with eating. Bruce only managed to finish half of his plate before having to call it.

As everyone started cleaning up, Clark decided to ask Bruce a question.

"So I've been talking to a friend about our dragon problem and she brought up a good point," Clark said.

Bruce froze for a split second before continuing to help pack away the leftover food. 

"Really now? And what did she say?"

Clark turned on the faucet, filling the sink with water. Bruce was starting to think Clark only wanted to talk to him after a meal in hopes of catching him off guard.

"She mentioned something to me that didn't even cross my mind. That I should request an audience with the nearest dragon lord to discuss my problem," Clark said as he started soaking all the dirty dishes. "She told me the nearest one to us is in Gotham. Have you ever met Gothamite dragons Bruce?"

Bruce takes slow, controlled breaths to collect his thoughts. It's not as if Clark figured out his secret, he's just making polite conversation.

Leaning heavily on the persona he uses when he's forced to attend galas at the manor, he turns to Clark with a pleasant smile.

"Hmm, can't say I have. Or, I don't remember ever meeting any?" Bruce contemplates, putting a hand under his chin as he thinks. "But I'm not too sure I'd want to either. Gotham isn't the friendliest place and I can imagine the dragons there are even less so." 

"That's too bad, I was hoping you'd be able to let me know what I was getting myself into," Clark joked, handing the wet dishes over to Martha to dry.

"Well I'm just glad that we're finally getting some help. I'll be able to sleep better now at least," Martha said. 

"Yeah…" Bruce trailed off. This was definitely going to complicate matters. Especially if Clark's contact decides to pay a visit to Gotham and asks specifically for him. He needs to find a way to sneak away tonight, or at least get a message to Alfred. He let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temples at the situation.

..

It wasn't long after dinner that good nights were exchanged and everyone went off to bed. Bruce made sure to wait a couple more hours before he quietly slipped out of his room and onto the roof. 

The night was clear and quiet, which would make his escape more difficult. It's going to be a challenge to hide the sounds of his wings and the natural smoke of his body. But there's no other choice.

Just as Bruce is about to take off, a dark shadow catches his eye. He relaxes his body, keeping a watchful eye on the dark speck in the distance. Within minutes it was apparent that it was heading towards the farm. 

Bruce tensed, a short flight back to Gotham he can handle but a fight is another story. But as the figure got closer and closer, he let out a sigh of relief. 

He climbs down from the roof and heads towards an empty patch of land on the property. Soon enough the long sleek form of an Amphiptere drops down next to him. 

"Dick, did Alfred send you?"

Dick nods his head. Bruce hasn't seen his eldest in months, for Alfred to have called shows how worried he was.

He takes a good look at Dick, noticing how healthy and glossy his black scales are. His colouring has changed again, more of the vibrant Persian blue is flecked through his wings and taken up the entirety of his underbelly. His mane has lightened considerably to a beautiful golden colour, Bruce wouldn't be surprised if Dick has started breaking hearts already.

_ "Alfie's going to kill you when we get back. He's been stress baking,"  _ Dick growled, bumping into Bruce with his head.

Bruce grunted and pushed back.  _ "Well I did warn him. You're just going to have to tell him I'm okay when you head back."  _ Bruce replied, he hated speaking in the draconic tongue when in human form. The growls always sounded forced and unnatural coming out of his human throat.

Dick reared back in surprise, his eyes wide as he blinked at Bruce. _"Whoa there, when_ I _head back? The whole reason I came out here was to either bring you back with me or inform the family of your unfortunate demise,"_ Dick huffed. He was getting agitated at the fact that Bruce was once again, being difficult.

_ "I need you to listen, there's a problem and it concerns Superman,"  _ Bruce argued. He found it satisfying when Dick snapped his mouth closed and brought his head back down to Bruce's level.

_ "Oh B what did you get yourself into?" _

_ "Superman seems to have access to dragon traps, very effective ones too. He managed to shoot me down, that's why I haven't gotten back to Gotham,"  _ Bruce said.  _ "The family who owns this farm is close to the Kryptonian so I'm trying to see what else they might know." _

Dick growled, his tail lashing in anger at the news.  _ "Why can't they just leave us alone? We didn't do anything to them!" _

_ "We didn't, but another dragon did. The dragon attacks are getting more frequent, more bold. I'm going to need you to ask Tim to look into who it is,"  _ Bruce said wearily.  _ "And to make matters worse someone is going to be dropping by Gotham looking for me and I won't be there." _

Dick whined dramatically, throwing his head back in exasperation.  _ "Oh come on B, why is it never anything easy when it comes to you?" _

_ "What can I say, it's part of my charm,"  _ Bruce replied. He motions for Dick to pay attention as he tells him what to do.

_ "I'm going to need you and Alfred to deal with this stranger when she eventually shows up. You can tell Alfred what I told you but don't tell your brothers, you know how they get,"  _ Bruce warned him, already getting a headache just thinking about their reactions. 

Dick snorted in amusement.  _ "Ha okay B, I'll try to not tell them where you are or what you've been doing. It'll turn out so well." _

_ "Also, I'll need you to ask Alfred to send me something to communicate with. I don't know how long I'll be here but I'll need a way to relay information to him."  _

Dicm nodded before preparing himself for the flight home.  _ "Got it, anything else you need before I head back B?" _

Bruce hesitated, he wasn't sure if he should tell Dick about Clark. It was still so new and he's so uncertain. He's still processing the information himself, he doesn't know how he'd explain this to his son.

But tradition dictates that he offers his mate gifts from his hoard as a sign that Bruce can provide for him. That he is a dragon worthy of his love, that Clark is worthy enough to be courted. After much internal debate and another shove from Dick, Bruce decided to do it. He'd deal with the consequences after.

_ "I also need you to bring me some of the treasure I keep in the caves under the manor. Not a lot, just a small portion. Bury them further down from here and I'll get them tomorrow night,"  _ Bruce mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed at having to ask.

Dick flitted around Bruce at the request, his excitement palpable in the air.

_ "Oh! For any specific reason? There's no way you'd just casually ask for gold. Come on you can tell me B, I'm your favourite!"  _ Dick begged, he wrapped his serpentine body around Bruce, not too tight that he would get hurt but enough to make sure he couldn't run. 

Bruce tried to escape, pushing against Dick's coils. He pushed Dick's eager face away, spitting in anger.

_ "Just do as I ask and don't ask any questions!"  _ Bruce spat back. 

_ "Oh come on! I won't tell anyone else, you can trust me!"  _ Dick chirped and trilled, hoping to annoy the answer out of Bruce.

Knowing he was in a losing battle, Bruce sighed in defeat.  _ "It's for my soulmate…"  _ Bruce gritted out.

Dick froze, his grip on Bruce turning lax. Taking this opportunity, Bruce slipped away and waited nervously for his reaction.

Dick slowly brought his face down to look Bruce in the eye, happiness overflowing from him. 

_ "Really? Are you sure?"  _

Bruce clenched his jaw and straightened his back. He gave Dick a firm nod and was nearly bowled over at his son's excitement.

_ "I'm so happy for you B! Don't worry you can count on me,I'll make sure to bring the best, shiniest pieces I can find! And I'll even keep it a secret from the rest of them, promise!"  _ Dick winked at Bruce for extra measure.

A warmth blossomed in Bruce's chest, happy at his son's support. 

_ "Thank you Dick, that means a lot. You better head back now, don't want to push our luck anymore than we already have."  _ Bruce beckoned Dick closer to say goodbye. He rubs the underside of his jaw on Dick's cheek, making sure to cover him in his scent. Another reassurance for his family, if they can smell him on Dick they'll know he's fine.

Dick pulls back, ready for the return trip home. But before he leaves he asks Bruce one last question.

_ "What's his name?" _

"Clark." 

Dick mulls it over, tilting his head back and forth. He finally nods as if to say he likes the name before taking to the skies. His near silent wings carry him further away until he disappears from view.

Bruce breathes out a sigh, he didn't realize how much of a relief it was to tell someone. He's just glad that Dick is so supportive, but he's not surprised. Out of all his sons, Dick would be the one to love the idea of soulmates. Bruce just hopes Dick has one waiting for him. 

Bruce makes his way back to the farm, hoping tomorrow will be less eventful.

..

The next few days are blissfully dull. Surprisingly, the Kent's slept through Dick's visit. Neither of them mentioned seeing a dragon on the edge of their property the next morning and Bruce was grateful. That would've been difficult to explain away.

Dick came through and brought a small communicator back the next night. It was small enough to fit in his ear and hide away. He has yet to contact Alfred, partially because he has no new information. Mostly because he's dreading the lecture he's bound to receive.

But buried with the communicator was the small bundle of jewels and gold Bruce requested. It's currently hidden under a loose floorboard he discovered in Clark's old room. He's already started leaving a few pieces here and there around the house, anxiously waiting for Clark to find them.

Today though, Clark mentioned that his son was going to be staying over for the weekend.

"You have a son?" Bruce asked curiously. He loves children, just not his own sometimes. The fact that Clark has a child of his own is enough to peak his interest.

"Yeah, his name's Jon. He just turned ten and he's a menace," Clark laughed. "But he's a good kid."

"Does he usually come out here to the farm?" Bruce asked. The day was hot and he was hiding on the porch with a cool glass of lemonade while Clark worked. Though, the temperature wasn't the only thing hot out here in Smallville. 

Bruce eyed Clark up and down as he continued to work on the farm's tractor. The old thing seemed to be acting up again and Clark told Martha he'd give it a look. 

Oh but Bruce didn't realize he'd be in for a treat, watching Clark roll up his sleeves and show off his thick forearms. The farm boy was soon covered in motor grease and dirt, and everytime he bent over to reach for a tool Bruce needed another sip of lemonade. He's glad his good fortune is finally turning up.

"So, I don't mean to pry, but I'm to assume you're married then?" Bruce asked in a casual tone, trying not to sound too curious. 

Clark went back underneath the tractor and fiddled with something for a couple minutes before he decided to answer.

"Divorced actually."

Bruce blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer from him. He feels a bit guilty, bringing up what must be painful memories.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Bruce apologized.

"It's okay, we split on good terms. And we're still really good friends, so it's not like things are awkward. She was more focused on her career and I had my own things to sort through. So we both decided that maybe it was time to end it." Clark said as he continued working on the tractor.

"And how did Jon take it?" Bruce felt his heart break for the boy. It must be hard for someone so young to have to go through something like this. 

"Pretty well considering everything. The fact that it was a mutual split probably helped. But we both get to see him and he's still happy. It's the least I could hope for." Clark stood up and brushed off the dust from his clothes and wiped his hands one last time.

"Well, now that you know a little more about my family I was wondering if you remembered anything of yours?" Clark asked as he tried the tractor.

As the machine rumbled to life Clark let out a shout of joy, and Bruce was given a brief reprieve to sort out his story.

He doesn't know how much he should tell Clark, but he needs to sell it.

"I remember having four boys, and a father. Everything else is still a bit muddled." 

Clark lit up at the mention of his boys, his smile turning brighter. Bruce found it to be contagious and let his own small smile slip out.

"You have kids too? Do you remember anything about them, like their names or how they look?" He asked excitedly. 

"Not really, just that they'll probably be the death of me but I wouldn't change them for the world." Bruce said with a smile. He wasn't lying, though his boys drove him mad most days he wouldn't ask them to change.

Clark gave him a soft look. "That's sweet, Bruce."

Bruce could feel a blush starting again. There was just something about Clark that made him want to do stupid things, like hug him. Maybe he should stop spending so much time around him.

Before their conversation could continue, a car was pulling into the dirt road leading up to the house.

Clark looked up, the happiness on his face was unrivaled as he ran towards the vehicle. As it pulled to a stop a young boy flung open the doors and tackled Clark to the ground. 

Bruce watched the two rough house, remembering a time when his own children were small enough to lift over his head. Not a care in the world, other than if Alfred would be making scones or cookies later that day. 

A great feeling of remorse gripped him tightly, crushing his heart and stealing his breath. He squeezed his eyes against the prickling sensation building behind them. 

He's been feeling unbalanced as of late. The constant hyper vigilance of playing nice has been more taxing than Bruce originally thought. 

Maybe it's because he thought he would've figured out more about this seemingly boring farmer and his strange dragon hunting equipment. His left arm twinges at the reminder. Granted he's only been here a few days but the lack of suspicious traps and weapons is unsettling.

And with Clark taking time off work to look after him, there just hasn't been a good time to do any actual investigating. Bruce nearly growls, he really wants to go home.

There are days that he must remind himself why he's out here in nowhere Kansas. Just the thought of any of his children, especially Damian, getting ensnared in one of Clark's traps just about paralyzed him. 

No, he has to find the traps or at the very least, make sure Clark won't have a need to use them. 

Before Bruce could put any more thought into his dilemma, a familiar voice reached his ear. Looking past Clark and his son, his eyes caught the woman standing next to the SUV. It takes a minute but Bruce's eyes widen just a fraction. 

Standing there in the bright Kansas sun is none other than Lois Lane. Of all the people who could ruin Bruce's chances of completing his mission, she is one of the people at the top of the list. It's pure luck that she hasn't noticed him yet.

Making a hasty retreat Bruce walks back into the house and heads straight for the bathroom. He locks the door behind him and breathes out a heavy sigh. 

Lois Lane being married to Clark Kent wasn't part of the plan. This time he didn't bother to smother the growl from leaving his throat. 

This definitely complicates things, Lane has interviewed him many times in the past. There's no way she won't recognize him at first glance. Bruce can already feel a headache building.

As much as Bruce hates the thought, he'll have to wait until Lois leaves and really play on Clark's heart strings. Luckily it won't be that difficult to do.

The simple plan of reconnaissance has spiraled spectacularly out of control and Bruce doesn't know how much longer he can hold this all together.

..

"Who was that on the porch just now?" Lois asked as she gathered Jon's bags.

Clark ruffled his son's hair before he ran off to terrorize the animals.

"Oh, that's just Bruce. He's staying with us for now," Clark said. "I know what you're doing to say, but he's been here for a few days now and nothing's happened!"

Lois glared at him, crossing her arms and radiating disapproval. "Come on Smallville, a couple of days isn't enough to understand a person. And now you expect me to let Jon stay here with a stranger in the house with him?" 

Before Clark could get a word in Jon came rushing back to their side with one of the chickens in hand.

"Come on mom, I'm pretty sure we can handle anything he'd throw at us! I'm not worried!" Jon said as he floated a foot off the air. But the image he was trying to go for was ruined when the chicken panicked and leapt out of his arms in a flurry of feathers.

Lois gave Clark an unimpressed look, eyebrow raised and lips pinched. He gave her a nervous smile in reply, pushing down on Jon's shoulder to make him touch ground again.

"Now Jon, we can't have you using your powers with a stranger here with us. You need to be more careful," Clark warned, swiveling his head back and forth to check.

"Aw come on dad, I'll be extra careful!" Jon whined, giving Clark his best puppy eyes.

Not wanting to give in and have Lois on his case, Clark quickly steered Jon towards the house.

"Why don't you see if Ma has anything sweet for you?" Clark placated. He was ignoring the look Lois was giving him, he knows he's a bit lax with Jon.

"I hope she made some pie!" Jon shouts as he runs into the house at a normal pace.

Clark sighed in relief at the one disaster avoided. But when he turned back towards Lous he winced at the piercing stare she gave him.

"So Clark, a visitor hm?"

To buy himself sometime, Clark started to grab Jon's bag from Lois. When she refused to hand them over, he sighed in defeat.

"You know how Ma's been having dragon problems? I tried to catch it a few nights ago and well…" 

"Don't tell me, you accidentally got that poor man instead," Lois steam rolled over Clark, watching as he squirmed in place. "And out of a sense of guilt, you offered him a place to stay while he recovers."

"How do you do that?" Clark asks, slightly miffed that Lois managed to read him so well.

She laughs in response, placing one of Jon's bags in his hand. "I'm an investigative journalist, it's my job."

They make their way to the house, exchanging small talk and catching up. Clark was glad to hear Jon's voice coming from the opened windows, it's been too long since they've all been back on the farm.

Clark turns back to Lois, but stops in surprise. He watches as she hands him Jon's bag, smile in place as she takes in his face.

"Don't give me that look Smallville, did you forget? I'm going after a lead halfway across the world," she teases him, placing the bag by his feet. "And didn't you say you wanted more time with Jon anyway?"

"Of course! But weren't you just giving me a lecture about having strangers in the house with our ten year old son?" 

"And like our ten your old son said earlier, I'm sure you both can handle it," Lois said. "But just to be safe, don't get into trouble. I made Jon promise to tell me about any funny business."

Before Lois could run off, Clark gently pulls her into a firm hug. 

"Stay safe Lo, you know I worry about you," Clark mumbles into her hair.

Lois brings her arms up to return the hug, leaning into Clark's warmth.

"I will. Besides, I can't leave you and Jon alone for too long," she joked. 

"And if things don't go according to plan you can always give me a shout, I'll keep an ear open," Clark promised.

"My hero." Lois leans up to give Clark a peck on the cheek and waves goodbye. 

Clark watches her get back in her car and drive off, his heart heavy as she chases her next story.

..

Bruce let the curtains slip from his hand as he watched Lois Lane drive away. He's grateful that Clark told him about their relationship beforehand, even if he left out her name. 

Yet even with the knowledge that they've separated, he couldn't help but feel jealousy curdle in his stomach. He ground his teeth, jaw clenching as he tried to get a handle on his emotions. Clark most likely doesn't know about the bond with how new it is and for now, Bruce wants to keep it that way. 

He kneels down to reach under the loose floorboards and looks through the small hoard before settling on a gem. It wasn't very large, about the size of his palm and a deep blue reminiscent of Clark's eyes. 

Bruce spends another few minutes admiring the stone, hoping that Clark actually finds this one. He didn't think that he was hiding the treasure that well, but as the days passed Bruce is starting to think that Clark might just be a bit oblivious.

He slips the gem into his pocket and heads downstairs. As he reaches the bottom he remembers that Clark's son is here. Suddenly he's nervous, he wants to pursue Clark and he knows he should start on good terms with Jon. Lost in his thoughts, Bruce doesn't hear Jon.

"Hi."

Bruce does not jump, though his shoulders do twitch. He really needs to pay more attention in this house, it's embarrassing how relaxed he's become here.

Bruce clears his throat as he looks at this small child. "... Hi. And who would you be?"

"I'm Jon, I haven't seen you before. Are you friends with my dad?" Jon asks, curiosity clear in his eyes.

"Well I like to think we're friends, he did help me out of some trouble. My name's Bruce, it's very nice to meet you Jon." Bruce gave him a warm smile as he placed his hand out to shake.

Jon looked between Bruce's outstretched hand and his smiling face for a few seconds. Bruce just hoped he didn't already say the wrong thing.

After a moment, Jon shook his hand and smiled. "It's nice to meet you too!"

Bruce let out a small sigh of relief. It seems he's won over Jon for now.

"So what kind of trouble did you get into?" Jon asked innocently.

Bruce couldn't help but laugh at how straight forward the boy was. Before Bruce could answer, the sound of the door opening reached his ears. 

"Why don't you ask him yourself." Bruce ruffled Jon's hair before facing Clark. He turns to face Clark and gives him an almost flirtatious smile. "My hero."

Bruce takes pleasure in the light dusting of pink across Clark's cheeks and commits it to memory. 

"Why don't I let you two catch up? I'm thinking of stretching my legs, if you need me I'll be around the barn."

With one last wave, Bruce made his way outside. Clark seems to spend a lot of time outside, maybe he'll have better luck finding the treasure.

Beuce made his way past the livestock, who gave him a wide berth. The stench of fear clogged the air, the chickens ran away while the cows stomped their hooves. He barely spared them a glance before heading into the barn.

He looked around, trying to find a good hiding spot. Somewhere that will give Clark a challenge, but obviously not too much of one. As he shifted tools around and lifted bales of hay, Bruce noticed something farther inside.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the muscles in his injured arm twinged. He moved slowly towards a set of doors chained shut on the ground. As he moved closer the feeling got worse. Bruce knelt down, grabbing the padlock and chains in his hand and tested the strength.

Looking at this unassuming door, Bruce got curious. Needing to know what was underneath, he gripped the padlock and pulled. It snapped off easily and he brushed the chains off the handles.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly pulled open the doors and his stomach plummeted. 

Sitting haphazardly behind those doors was the dragon trap that hit him. A cold sweat broke out over his skin, his hands went clammy. Bruce felt as if he was outside his body, looking at this trap. Not knowing what to do with this information, he shut the doors and placed the chains back through the handles. The lock was a lost cause but he tried his best to hide that it was broken. 

Bruce sat there for a minute, collecting his thoughts. It just didn't make sense to him, Clark seemed so kind, so  _ good. _ But, those are the ones you have to be careful of. Bruce let out a humorless chuckle, of all the rotten luck. 

Not in the mood to leave gifts for Clark to find, Bruce made his way outside and back to the house. Except he stumbles upon the youngest Kent outside, reading on the porch. Curious, Bruce walks a bit closer and peeks at the book in Jon's hands.

_ Dragonology: The Complete Book of Dragons by Dugald Steer. _

Bruce blinks in surprise, this he did not expect. A flicker of hope burns in his chest, if Jon is interested in dragons then maybe there's a chance Bruce can change Clark's mind. His mind made up, Bruce walked over to Jon and took a seat next to him.

"Dragons huh? Didn't picture you to be an enthusiast," Bruce said.

Jon jumped in surprise, too engrossed in his book to notice Bruce next to him. 

"Well I just think they're so cool! They can fly around, breathe fire, and come in all shapes and sizes!" Jon explained with so much excitement.

Bruce had to blink a few times to make sure he isn't imagining this. Dragons haven't been a favourite amongst humans, so to hear one talk about them in such a good light is staggering. It did warm his heart though.

"Well Jon you're in luck, I may not remember much but I do remember that I am something of an expert when it comes to dragons. So if you have any questions, ask away." Bruce gave him another friendly smile and watched as his whole being lit up in excitement. 

"Really?! Can you tell me something about dragons?"

Bruce chuckled, ruffling Jon's hair again and removed the book from his hands. Flipping through it, Bruce was a bit impressed that not everything was wrong about it. Well, it was a place to start at least.

And that's where Clark found them hours later, sitting on the porch with a couple glasses of Ma's lemonade sweating next to them and book between them. He couldn't stop the soft smile from spreading on his face.


	4. Chapter 4

Clark was slowly losing his mind. It hasn't been more than a week since his unplanned leave of absence from Metropolis and to be honest, he was bored. The laundry list of chores his mother left him is all but finished and surprisingly, the world didn't appear to be in any immediate danger. A quiet staccato started up in the empty kitchen, a steady tap-tap as Clark mulled over his options. Should he bother his mother for any last minute jobs, or finally deal with the elephant in the room? Said elephant being the mysterious stranger currently taking up residence at the small Kent farm. The tall, dark,  _ handsome _ stranger with his broad shoulders, piercing eyes, nice firm as--

Clark cut that thought short, face slowly heating up in embarrassment. He couldn't help it, everytime Bruce was nearby his eyes would be drawn to him. It would be almost cliche how quickly Clark found himself falling for Bruce, so quickly that he couldn't quite call it love. At least, not yet. 

There was just something off about him. Looking past the unfortunate case of amnesia, and bizarre mannerisms, Clark felt as if Bruce was hiding something. It was obvious in the piles of priceless jewels and stones that currently crowded the shelves and tables. Another reminder to donate a few of them to Mrs. Digby down the street, she did mention she needed a new truck.

Clark may live a modest life but even he didn't need Superman's eyes to see that wherever Bruce found these gems, trouble was very likely nearby. 

Yet, the last time he tried to ask Bruce about them he wasn't prepared for the yelling. Or the mess Bruce made when he carelessly gathered the rather alarming amount of jewels hidden around the farm. To be honest, Clark is never prepared when it comes to Bruce. One minute he could be calling Clark things like "ungrateful hay-seed" and "naive boy scout" and the next he'd bring him wildflowers and a stilted, but heartfelt apology. Yes, Bruce is quite the enigma that Clark wouldn't mind unraveling. 

Decision made, Clark headed to the living room where he last saw Bruce. He was definitely not expecting the sight that greeted him. On the worn out couch, wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets, was the source of Clark's problems. Bruce was currently fast asleep, face mashed into a throw pillow, blanket pulled up over most of his face, only his eyes and the top of his head visible. It made him question how a man as tall as him could sleep on a piece of furniture that could barely fit Clark. It was almost impressive.

But standing in his family home, watching as the sun drenched Bruce in a wash of gold, Clark couldn't stop the way his heart almost leapt out of his chest. In the light, Bruce looked calm, relaxed. As if it didn't matter that he couldn't remember who he was or where he came from. In this one moment between Bruce's quiet breaths and Clark's rapid heartbeats, he could almost pretend that this was his. That this one perfect moment in a small farm in Kansas was his to keep. 

The overwhelming urge to grab onto this feeling and let it sink into his bones scared him. 

And just as quick as it came, his heart settled and his shoulders dropped. This wasn't right, wasn't fair to Bruce or himself. Clark is supposed to be putting others' needs before his own, he's supposed to be Superman. If his friend needed help, he should provide it. And maybe, that's the best he could do for now. Bruce needed him, just maybe not in the way Clark needed him.

But he could be a little selfish, he could have one little thing for himself. So Clark reached in his pocket for his phone and turned on the camera. On silent feet he moved a bit closer, aiming the camera just right to capture the moment. The blanket slipped at some point, the sunlight highlighting Bruce's cheekbones and turning the grey in his beard and temples silver. As Clark took the photo the shutter went off and Bruce's eyes snapped open. Clark didn't dare move, his last breath stuck in his throat as Bruce's eyes immediately met his. A moment of silence passed, the hard thump of Clark's heart the only sound between the two.

"Wha ya got there boy scout?" The sleep worn words passed through Clark like warm honey. He doesn't think he's ever heard Bruce this soft.

"Ah--" he was dumbstruck, of all the things he expected, he didn't count on Bruce looking up at him through sleep dazed eyes. He clutched the phone close to his chest. Which of course drew Bruce's eyes straight to it.

Bruce stared intently at the phone in Clark's hand, "What's on your phone Clark?"

"Um, I'd rather not say if that's fine with you?" 

"... I hope it's at least worth your life Kent. Because if you don't show it to me I'll have to kill you and see for myself." Bruce's tone was friendly, to anyone else it sounded like a joke between friends. But Clark knew better, he noticed the corners of Bruce's mouth turn downward in irritation, the faint furrow of his brows and the hard look in his eyes. 

Clark only hesitated for another second before he turned the phone around, a sigh of defeat on his lips. 

"It's nothing bad I promise, it's just… you looked so relaxed. I had to take a picture as evidence that it actually happened." The joke fell flat, Bruce raised a single eyebrow in question.

"It's a nice picture of you," Clark mumbled, hoping he would just melt into a puddle and sink in between the floorboards. Who knows, it might be another kryptonian power he didn't know about. 

"Well if you like it so much, keep it." Bruce smirked as he sat up, stretching out the kinks that most likely settled in from his nap on the couch.

Clark quickly looked away as his shirt rode up, revealing a flash of tan skin and a glimpse of abs. He hoped Bruce wouldn't notice the faint dusting of pink across his cheeks as he moved past him to the kitchen.

"Well since you're up I was wondering what you wanted to do for lunch? We could go into town and buy food or would you rather see what we could put together here?"

"I'd rather we stay here, not really in the mood to see anyone else right now." The sound of the fridge being opened and food items being moved around made their way back to Clark.

"Sure, sounds fine to me. But just letting you know Ma won't be back for another hour and I can't guarantee anything I cook will be edible." Clark walked back to the kitchen, leaving his phone on the table. Lunch would be a good idea. Maybe it'll also help him forget how, for a split second, he's pretty sure Bruce's eyes looked strange. That if it wasn't for the fact that he's Superman, he would've missed the slit pupils that blinked back at him when Bruce woke up. 

"Oh come now boy scout, have a little faith. Between the both of us I'm sure we can pull something together." Bruce's lighthearted teasing and familiar smirk eased the knot in Clark's stomach. The sun is very bright today, it could've caused Clark to see things that weren't there. As he watched Bruce move around his childhood home, he could almost believe the lie. Yes, it was just a trick of the light.

..

"Hey Bruce is it true that dragons live in groups?" Jon asked around his mouthful. Unfortunately he didn't manage to keep all of the food in his mouth.

Bruce girmanced as he passed a napkin over to the boy. 

"... Yes. Contrary to popular belief dragons are very social creatures. There are many different bloodlines and families, some dating back to the first age of magic."

Jon's eyes grew wider as he listened with rapt attention, drawing a chuckle from both Bruce and Martha.

"Wait so some of the very first dragons are still alive? That's awesome!" 

"Well not exactly, though dragons do live for a very long time. The very first dragons were known as the Ancient Ones, and most of their bloodlines have died out," Bruce explained. "But some of them are still around. I've heard rumors that the sea dragons in Atlantis come from one of those ancient bloodlines. And that they still have a direct descendant living amongst them."

  
  


"Wow, do you think dad would ever take me to go see them?" Jon asked, a wistful look in his eye.

"You're better off asking the King of Atlantis for that favour," Bruce laughed. "And you have to remember Jon that even though most dragons today are very civil, there are still those who are deemed dangerous."

"What do you mean by that, Bruce?" Martha asked, her curiosity peaked. 

Bruce was silent for a moment, trying to find the right words. He shouldn't have started talking to Jon about dragons but he wanted someone to know. If he could educate one person on the true nature of dragons then maybe the stigma would change. There was no going back now and so he took a deep breath.

"Dragons aren't meant to be alone. There's been studies conducted that show a lone dragon will not survive as long as one with a family. Not to mention the emotional stress it would go through. The constant hyper vigilance due to avoiding claimed territories paired with hunters usually pick off lone dragons."

"Hunters? What would hunt a dragon?" Jon asked.

Bruce paused, he needed to rein in his emotions. He couldn't dwell on his own traumas, of a too small cage and watching his parents shot down and dismembered for parts. The constant rage that burned inside him threatened to spill out and he couldn't have that. The Kents couldn't know what he was, so he closed his eyes for a brief minute. 

Focusing on the calm blue skies through the kitchen window, Bruce sighed and continued.

"Humans. They look at dragons as nothing more than animals they can either hunt for sport or profit. The black market for dragon parts is overwhelming."

He stopped to take in their shocked faces. Realizing he might've said a bit too much, Bruce tries to change the subject.

"But it's not all bad, there are a lot of laws in place to protect the remaining dragons and their families."

Jon looked upset at this new knowledge, if the scowl on his face was anything to go by.

"Well someone should do something about it, it's wrong!" 

Bruce chuckled at Jon's enthusiasm and ruffled his hair. "Well if we have more people like you willing to say something, I think that change is coming soon."

Jon shot him a beaming smile, ready with another question about dragons. And on the other side of the table, Bruce noticed the thoughtful look Martha gave him. He averted his eyes and focused back on Jon, laughing as he asked if he could meet a dragon himself.

..

And so the rest of the day was spent with Jon asking him questions every other hour.

"How many types of dragons are there?"

"There are five main species of dragons; westerns, easterns, wyverns, drakes, and serpents. Of course there are sub species but in most media and texts you'll find these more often."

Jon nodded along, furiously scribbling in his notebook. Bruce couldn't help but smile fondly at the boy, his enthusiasm was charming. 

"Do dragons prefer their meat raw or cooked? Do they all eat meat or are their vegetarian dragons?"

Bruce thought hard about his answer, particularly about vegetarian dragons. He hasn't heard of one before, though that doesn't mean there aren't any.

"To be honest Jon, I'm not sure about vegetarian dragons. Never heard of one. But dragons do prefer their meat raw, for the most part at least."

Jon gave him a confused look, his pen resting on the paper. "For the most part?"

Bruce spoke without thinking again, he could give an acceptable answer and move on. Or he could tell Jon the truth. He doesn't know why, but he wants to trust this small child. 

"I'll tell you a little secret Jon, dragons can change their form whenever they want to."

Jon's gasped in wonder, notes completely forgotten he moved closer to Bruce.

"Like, the colour of their scales or how many wings they have?"

"Well, let me tell you this. The reason we don't see massive dragons flying around all the time is because they can change their forms to look human. Makes blending in a bit easier," Bruce whispered, not willing to share this information too loudly. Most people don't know this about dragons and Bruce would like to keep it that way.

"But it's a secret so you can tell anyone about it, promise?"

Jon gave him a serious look before nodding. "Don't worry Bruce, I promise I won't tell. You can trust me."

Bruce gave him a fond smile, amazed by the innocence of children. Clark was lucky to have a son like Jon.

"I know."

..

As much fun as Jon was, Bruce was grateful that he was able to take a moment for himself. He let his weary body drop onto the bed, rolling on to his back he brought his hands up to rub his tired eyes.

Clark hasn't been around at all today and Bruce can admit that he's a bit irritated. He thought their moment the other day in the kitchen was a step forward in their relationship, but he could be wrong. Clark's been avoiding being alone with him ever since.

Not to mention Clark keeps giving away his  _ gold.  _ Now granted, as soon as Bruce gifts them away to Clark it's completely up to him what he wants to do with them. But to watch these strangers walking away with his treasure sets Bruce's blood on fire and he's had to walk away and calm down many times. He's ignored Clark's hurt look.

Before he could think about Clark anymore, his comm beeped with an incoming call.

With his gaze still pinned to the ceiling he opened the drawer of the side table and grabbed it. He put it up to his ear and grunted.

"Wow hello to you too Bruce, your day must be going well."

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. "Sorry Tim, it's been a long day. What have you got for me?"

"Well, I've been looking into any reports of dragon attacks across America and there are actually a lot," Tim said.

Bruce smothered his groan with his arm, he couldn't have his teenage son hearing him throw a tantrum.

"But lucky for us, most of them were from years ago. When I looked into more recent ones there were a few cases that got my attention. Mostly for the fact that, from eye witness reports, it looks to be done by the same dragon."

Bruce quickly sat up, his focus completely on Tim. "Any ideas on who it could be?"

Tim scoffed over the comm and Bruce couldn't stop the quirk of his lips at his son's sass.

"Of course I do, but you're not going to like it," Tim warned him. "It's Deathstroke."

This time Bruce couldn't stop the growl from escaping. Of all the rogue dragons, why did it have to be Deathstroke. A dragon with no loyalties to any bloodline is a danger to all of them. 

"You need to be careful Bruce, the last time you fought him he left you pretty banged up. Even Alfred and Leslie had a hard time patching you up," Tim reminded him. 

"Well I at least took an eye for my troubles,"Bruce huffed, not happy about being reminded.

"Yeah, but he also took his pound of flesh from you too right? Just do yourself a favour and ask Jason to go with you when you chase after him. You'll need the extra muscle," Tim replied.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling Deathstroke by myself. Contrary to what you all may think, I do learn from my mistakes."

"Wow, the great Bruce Wayne finally admitting he makes mistakes? Maybe you should take a vacation more often," Tim said dryly. "Either way, I already let Jason know."

Bruce couldn feel a headache starting to pulse behind his eyes. "So why bother telling me to ask him if he already knows" 

"More of a formality, mostly to see if you'd surprise me and actually ask him." Bruce could practically see Tim shrug his shoulders, he really misses the days where his children actually respected him. "So once I find out where exactly Deathstroke is hiding he'll meet you there."

"Fine," Bruce sighed. He knows that Tim's right, being a wyvern doesn't do Bruce any favours in size and strength when compared to western dragons. Even if Bruce is big for his species. He should be grateful that his children even want to help.

"Also, one last thing. Don't get mad, but I'm pretty sure Damian is heading over to you right now," Tim said in one quick breath.

Bruce could feel his blood turning cold, the colour drained from his face. This was the last thing he wanted to hear, his children are not safe here.

"How long has he been gone? Why didn't anyone call me earlier?" Bruce snapped. His mind was racing as he tried to come up with a reason to leave the house without arousing suspicion. 

"We didn't know he left until now, I'm sorry Bruce," Tim apologized.

Realizing getting angry at Tim wouldn't help, Bruce took a deep breath and calmed his racing heart. 

"It's fine, it's not your fault. I'm not angry at you."

Bruce could hear Tim's fuzzy sigh of relief over the comm. He felt guilty at his behavior but the thought of his youngest flying over here by himself scared him. 

"We turned on his tracker as soon as we found out he was missing and by the looks of it he's about half an hour away from your location."

"If I get into the air right now I should be able to cut him off before he gets here. Thank you Tim, for the information."

Bruce shut off the comm and placed it back in the drawer. Without thinking he moved towards the door and yanked it opened, only to be surprised by Clark.

They blinked owlishly at each other for a brief moment before Bruce plastered on his best Brucie smile.

"Why Clark Kent, how long were you standing there? Spying on me?" Bruce teased. 

Though his tone was light and playful, Bruce had to work hard to control his panic. If Clark was standing outside for a while he might have overheard his conversation and Bruce didn't have time for this right now.

Clark was quiet, a serious look in his eyes as he watched Bruce. As the seconds ticked by, Bruce could feel his smile slipping and his nerves fraying. And all Clark did was watch him.

"Who were you talking to, Bruce?"

Bruce froze. Knowing that Clark overheard his conversation with Tim sent dread pooling in his gut. His instincts were going wild, he knew he had to protect his family from any threats and Clark was a threat.

But if Bruce let himself believe in love and soulmates, then that would make Clark his family too. Even if he didn't know it yet. There were too many variables, too many thoughts running through his head. Bruce felt as if he was on the edge of a panic attack.

He could see Clark's mouth moving, the concern in his eyes. Yet all he could do was breathe. Slow shallow breaths in and out, eyes focusing just below Clark's. His hearing was muted and Clark's voice sounded far away. 

Clark must have been worried because he was suddenly in Bruce's space. Careful hands were placed on his shoulders, grounding him and helping him breathe. Between one shaky breath and the next, Bruce managed to calm down. 

"Are you okay?" Clark whispered.

Bruce was able to give a faint nod before looking away, not willing to look Clark in the eye. He decided to take a minute to think back on his time at the farm.

And realized that he's enjoyed it. To not think about the stress of running a fortune 500 company while also maintaining the precarious balance between the dragon families. 

But he's enjoyed spending time with Clark the most. Sure, he thinks of Jon as another son and Martha is what he hopes his own mother would have been like if she lived this long. 

Even though this all started out as an accident, he's glad to have met Clark. His mate, his love. He's glad to have had the chance to fall in love with his clumsiness, his kindness, his infectious smile. The smile he wishes was on that handsome face right now.

Bruce never believed in fate. But in this moment, when he could lose it all, he desperately wishes that fate would intervene. That they could have a happy ending where there weren't any secrets between the both of them. But he knew that this was all temporary, that one day he would have to leave.

He just wished it wasn't this soon.

He watched from the corner of his eye as Clark chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, as if thinking about how to move forward. But before he could say anything Bruce decided to take matters into his own hands.

Not one to let an opportunity slip by, he slowly brought his hands up to cradle Clark's face. He took his time, feeling the strong cut of Clark's jaw and savoring the wide eyed look. A small smile appears on Bruce's face and before he can think too much about it, he kisses Clark.

It was a soft press of lips, innocent in its delivery. And yet, Clark gasped into his mouth and it sent shivers down his spine.

For the longest time Bruce thought about what it would be like to finally kiss Clark. He thought it would be loud and electrifying, that he'd feel powerful and untouchable. 

But it didn't feel like that at all. When their lips touched Bruce felt a warmth spread through him, settling deep into his bones. It was like finally coming home after days in the wilderness and being enveloped in a nest of the thickest blankets imaginable. He doesn't remember ever feeling like this, or maybe he does. A faint memory, fuzzy and half forgotten, of his parents. Him being surrounded by his family, coming home to that love. That is the closest he's ever felt to this one moment.

Desperate to chase that feeling, Bruce deepened the kiss. He pulled Clark into the room and twisted them around. He managed to maneuver Clark towards the bed, giving him a final push when his knees hit the edge of it.

Clark let out a grunt as the air was knocked out of him. Not wanting to waste time, Bruce climbed onto his lap and kissed him again. He ignored the hands that tried to push him away. When they got too persistent he grabbed both of Clark's wrists and pinned them on either side of his head. 

Clark started to struggle and try to pull away so Bruce put more pressure until he was practically laying ontop of Clark. 

"Bruce, stop-- wait!" Clark tried to escape, turning his head to the side to avoid Bruce's persistent mouth. 

Bruce knew he should stop, that he should talk to Clark before throwing himself on him like some wild animal. But he couldn't find it in himself to stop, his instincts said to claim what was his. He was lost in his exploration of Clark, leaving his kiss swollen mouth to nose under his jaw. Placing nips and love bites all down his neck.

"I know what you are, dragon."

Those words were like a shock to Bruce's system and he froze up, his teeth inches from Clark's pulse point. 

His grip went lax, allowing Clark to slowly remove his arms and sit up. Bruce carefully slid off of Clark's lap and took a few steps back. He opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say. Clark sat on the bed, elbows on his knees and hands linked together as he watched. A grim look on his face as he waited for Bruce's answer.

"I don't know what you're talking about Clark. Really? A dragon? That sounds crazy," Bruce laughed, hoping to play off this whole situation as a joke. Unfortunately it didn't look like Clark was taking the bait.

He sighed while he rubbed his face. Bruce took another step back.

"I don't know why you didn't just tell me in the first place but--"

"Clark, I'm not a dragon," Bruce insisted, voice firm.

Clark narrowed his eyes, the muscle in his jaw twitched as he pressed his lips into a thin line. He let out a frustrated sigh. 

"Bruce, answer me honestly. Where have you been getting the gold?" 

Bruce was starting to panic again, he didn't know how to answer this, he didn't know what to say and not lose Clark in the process. For as paranoid as he is, he wasn't prepared for this. His mind was scrambling for an excuse, anything that he could say that would make Clark happy.

But as the silence went on, he knew it was over. He looked over at Clark and watched as his face fell and shoulders slump. 

"Funny story, I had a friend look into the dragons from Gotham. She managed to speak to everyone from the House of Wayne, except for the head of the family." 

"I don't know what this has to do with me," Bruce muttered, his eyes flitting side to side in hopes of making an escape.

As soon as Clark noticed, he stood up and slowly made his way towards Bruce.

"I'm getting to that. I was curious, how one of the most powerful dragon lords in the world goes missing and no one says anything. So I decided to look him up," Clark replied. He's stopped a couple feet away from Bruce as he looks into his eyes.

"And if you got rid of your beard, you'd be a dead ringer for him."

The next few moments happen fast. Feeling as if he had no other option, Bruce steeled himself. He pushed past Clark, taking him by surprise and bolted towards the open window. Without hesitation he took to the air.

He soared higher into the sky, his massive bulk and plumage of smoke blocking out the late afternoon sky. 

With a heavy heart he flew farther and farther away from the one person he could've loved for the rest of his life.

..

Without the communicator Bruce was flying blind. He spent more time than he thought confronting Clark and now had no idea where Damian could be. Without Tim telling him where to go he decided to fly along the same path he took the first night he came to the farm. It made sense since it was the most direct route to Kansas from Gotham.

As Bruce flew he thought back to his last moments with Clark and couldn't hold back the rush of guilt. With how he handled the situation and for the fact that he let himself get distracted so easily.

He should never have stayed for so long, to allow himself to become  _ domesticated. _

Before Bruce could dwell on his mistakes any longer, he caught a glimpse of smoke on the horizon. He beat his wings harder, his foul mood giving him more energy to make it to Damian quickly.

Once he was within range, Bruce flared his wings out and came to a full stop in front of Damian. 

_ "What are you doing here? I gave Dick specific instructions to keep everyone away until he heard from me,"  _ Bruce growled. His lips pulled back in the beginnings of a snarl.

Damian has always been a handful, causing trouble and picking fights with his siblings and even Bruce. The only one ever really spared from his ire is Alfred, but even then the older dragon would need to give him a few warning nips.

Bruce likes to blame it on hormones and growing up in a house with three older brothers. Alfred just likes to remind him that the apple doesn't fall from the tree. The fact that Damian looks like an almost carbon copy of him doesn't help matters. Though by how fast he's growing, he'll most likely be bigger than Bruce when he's fully grown.

What they can agree on is that Damian needs to learn to control his aggression before it gets him into trouble one day. And by the amount of black smoke pouring off of him, today might just be that day.

_ "If you weren't so busy playing house with that farmer I wouldn't have to be out here,"  _ Damian spat back.  _ "It's been days Father, and we haven't heard anything from you." _

The guilt crept back in, settling like a rock in his stomach. Bruce never meant to worry his family, he just wanted to protect them. But it looks like he just disappointed everyone instead. 

As Bruce flew closer to try and give some form of apology, Damian swiveled his head sharply. He moved back and forth before looking down. Before Bruce could ask what was wrong, Damian raced downwards. Bruce quickly looked down and dropped a few feet in surprise. 

The speck in the sky currently being chased by his son was unmistakably Jon. Bruce was having trouble understanding how this ten year old boy was currently in the air without any assistance. But as Damian roared he decided to figure that out after he got him to safety. 

Bruce dived, hoping to make up the distance and stop Damian from eating Jon. If Bruce ever wanted to salvage his relationship with Clark in the future, he had to make sure his son didn't end up as a snack.

He managed to get above them, blocking out the sun and creating a massive shadow. This, unfortunately, distracted Jon long enough for Damian to pounce. 

Damian lunged, jaws snapping angrily just inches away from Jon. When he finally managed to grab onto him, Bruce was relieved that he only caught the boy's … cape. Clark's son was flying, unassisted, and wearing a cape.

Bruce did not like the idea forming in his head, but it made sense. The night he was shot down, Superman rescued him and brought him to the Kent farm. The dragon trap was stored in the old barn located on their property, the unearthly eyes Clark had. And the fact that he never did seem completely human. Of all the things it could be, why this? 

_ Of course I'd have to fall in love with Superman of all people. _

Bruce was shaken from his thoughts as the shouts and roars grew louder, more frantic. Pushing aside his own struggles, Bruce dives again.

When he checks on them, the boys have managed to tangle themselves up. Jon somehow climbed onto Damian's back, something he despises, while Damian still has a firm hold on Jon's cape. With neither boy willing to let go, Damian was struggling to maintain his altitude.

Bruce managed to get his head underneath Damian, supporting him so he could get his wings under control again. Both of them seemed fine, though Jon was coughing badly due to the smoke from both of them.

_ "Damian, land. Now," _ Bruce warned, fixing a stern eye on his son.

_ "But Father--- _

_ "Now, Damian!" _

Frustrated, the young dragon spat out the cape and flew off. He managed to kick Bruce's snout in the process, but he figured he could let Damian get away with it. Just this once.

With one problem dealt with, he turns towards Jon who was looking at him with a mix of fear and amazement. 

Not wanting to startle the boy, Bruce slowly flies a little closer. He tries to relax his body as best he can, slowly extending his neck to get a closer look at Jon.

He doesn't look hurt, maybe a bit shaken but otherwise fine. As Bruce continued his visual check on him, he didn't notice Jon reaching out for his snout. He stops when a cautious hand makes contact with him. 

Bruce was about to pull away, except that Jon's smile stopped him. The sheer joy on his face as he brought his other hand up to pet Bruce's scales was heartwarming. Bruce's eyes went soft, he pushed gently against Jon's hands. 

He carefully directed Jon towards his back, waiting for the boy to realize what he was asking for. Bruce didn't think Jon could get anymore excited until this moment, at the opportunity to ride a dragon.Jon quickly climbed on his back and once Bruce was sure he was secured, took off. 

The first flight with your young is an important milestone of a dragon's life. Bruce doesn't remember his first flight with his parents, not really. But he does remember what it felt like, the excitement, the freedom, the trust that his parents would catch him.

He does remember all of his children's first flights. Though he isn't their biological father, excluding Damian, he likes to think that maybe he was enough for them.

And even though Jon isn't his either, he'll admit that he's being a bit selfish. Because he doesn't want to let Jon go. The days he's spent with the Kents have been so meaningful. They've reminded him that he needs to slow down and enjoy the simple things. That maybe, he could be happy.

Bruce couldn feel Jon wiggling about on his neck, slowly inching towards his ears. Curious, he slows down to avoid any accidents and wait for Jon to speak.

"It's you, right Bruce?" Jon asks, excitement lining his voice.

Bruce snorts before nodding his head. 

"I knew it! I knew there was a reason why you knew so much about dragons! Wait until dad finds out!"

At the mention of Clark, Bruce is reminded that he might not see him again. The fleeting moments of happiness were slipping away, and by the looks of it Damian seemed to have run out of patience.

He did a few leisurely laps in the sky before landing next to a fuming fledgling. Bruce lowered his head, partially to let Jon climb off and to also nudge Damian. He was met with a growl and a swipe of claws that thankfully missed.

_ "Damian, behave yourself. This is Jon and I expect you to be nice,"  _ Bruce warned.

_ "Why? What's so special about this alien spawn? Have you gotten so tired of us that you decided to adopt again?"  _ Damian sneered. He made sure to make eye contact with Jon before spewing out a small stream of flames.

Bruce quickly pushed Jon behind his wing and away from the fire before turning back to Damian. Annoyed with his youngest, Bruce's jaws closed gently, yet firmly, around Damian and effectively scuffed him. 

_ "Father unhand me! This is completely undignified!"  _ Damian roared as he thrashed around. Bruce gave him a few quick shakes, not stopping until Damian went limp with a whine in his throat.

Satisfied that Damian's tantrum was over for now, Bruce placed him back on the ground. 

_ "Now, are you quite finished?"  _

Damian snorted, a rush of hot air escaping from his nostrils as he tore up the grass with his claws. The defiant look in his eyes told Bruce enough and he let out a weary sigh. 

It was at that moment that Jon decided to peak around Bruce's wing and wave shyly at Damian. The fledgling growled a warning.

"Is that your kid? He's not very nice," Jon muttered under his breath. Bruce didn't quite manage to get in between the boys fast enough and soon enough they were rolling around in the dirt. At least Damian changed his mind about eating Jon.

_ Well a bit of rough housing never hurt. Good thing Jon's half Kryptonian. _

And with that thought Bruce's world comes crashing down around him. Clark is his mate, who also happens to be Superman. How did he not see it before? The disguise is embarrassing, it's even worse that Bruce fell for it too. He's never going to live this down.

"Ow! Don't bite me!" 

Bruce snapped his attention back to the boys and noticed that Damian had Jon's arm in his mouth. He makes his way over to them to break up the fight, but as soon as Damian sees him he let's go.

_ "Damian how many times do I…"  _ Bruce pauses. There's a shift in the air, an eerie silence has taken hold of the field they've been sitting in. Bruce can feel his hackles rise, his instincts telling him to grab the children and run. He feels it in the air, a predator is nearby.

He moves to cover the boys, eyes looking for the threat. He leans down towards Damian.

_ " I need you to take Jon and fly back to his home. I need you to do this for me Damian." _

For once, Damian takes notice of the serious tone in his father's voice and the clear aggression in his body language and doesn't argue. He moves towards Jon, head nudging the boy to climb on his back.

Jon, not completely understanding what's happening, hesitates.

Bruce smells it before he sees it, ozone and smoke. He curls his body into a tight ball, covering the boys and flattening himself as much as he can to the ground before an inferno rains down on them.

The heat would be unbearable for anyone else but a dragon and Bruce worried for Jon. They just need to wait it out, for their attacker to run out of breath. But the seconds dragged by and Bruce is very worried for Jon.

The flames finally stop and Bruce moves. He picks Jon up and places him on Damian's back. Then they're off, Damian taking to the air immediately and Bruce following closely behind. They don't make it very far before he sees Deathstroke in the air above them.

The dragon is still as enormous as Bruce remembers, jet black scales and burnt orange accents covered his body. His large wingspan is the biggest he's ever seen on a dragon and combined with his spine spikes, ridges and curved horns, gives the mercenary the advantage of intimidation. Though Bruce does smirk at the dragon's scarring and missing left eye. A reminder for Deathstroke to avoid Bruce and his territories.

Bruce quickly puts himself in between the boys and Deathstroke. As Damian heads back to the farm, Bruce flies up to challenge the other dragon.

_ "Ha, didn't expect to see you out here Wayne. What is a dragon lord doing in rural America? Tired of city life already?" _

Bruce growled, the smoke poured off him and he bared his fangs.

_ "Why have you been attacking this area, Deathstroke? These people have done nothing wrong," _

_ "Well that's not entirely true now is it? Humans have been hunting us for centuries, just because it hasn't been this specific group of them doesn't mean we can trust them."  _ Deathstroke circled Bruce in an attempt to intimidate him. But Bruce wasn't in the mood.

He lunged, snapping his jaws to get more distance between them.

_ "Don't pretend like you've ever cared, Slade. I remember the 50s, you went out of your way to kill your own kind so don't use that as an excuse,"  _ Bruce hissed in fury. It wasn't unheard of for dragons to fight amongst themselves, but to kill them for profit? That makes them as bad as the hunters.

Deathstroke simply shrugged his massive shoulders.  _ "That's the job. If they're willing to pay, who am I to refuse them service?" _

_ "You are a disgrace to your kind." _

_ "I'm just staying ahead of the curve, Wayne. Maybe you should pay more attention."  _

Without warning, Deathstroke attacked. He put on a burst of speed and snapped his jaws shut just inches shy of Bruce's neck. He managed to beat his wings and create some distance between them, but Deathstroke adapted and let loose his fire.

Bruce dived to avoid the flames, flying around Deathstroke to try and surround them both with his smoke and create a cover. It seemed to be working well, and with the other dragon momentarily confused Bruce let out his own stream of flames.

He would like to keep his distance, wyverns aren't built to take on westerns by themselves and he is no exception. He can't rely on Jason coming to help so he'll need to figure something out.

Before he could form a solid plan, Deathstroke burst out of the cloud of black smoke. Bruce decided to lead him away from civilians, flying higher and swerving to avoid the flames. The least he could do was move this to a more secluded area.

They flew for a bit, fire and smoke following them as Bruce tried to stay ahead of Deathstroke. He eventually turned around, but stopped when he noticed he was alone. He swiveled his head back and forth, tuning out his heavy breaths and the sound of his wings. He knows Deathstroke prefers aerial attacks and pays closer attention to his back.

Which was a mistake as Deathstroke burst from the black smoke underneath him. Bruce had a split second to curse his stupidity before pivoting in the air to try and avoid those massive jaws coming for him.

Unfortunately, he wasn't quick enough and Deathstroke's teeth sank deep into his shoulder joint. Bruce let out a roar of pain, turning his neck to bite down hard on the back of Deathstroke's neck. He let out a torrent of fire directly on the back of his head in hopes of making Deathstroke let go.

It seemed like both dragons were unwilling to let go, they started to spiral as they tried to maintain their altitude. Bruce was in trouble, he was losing a lot of blood and it was just his luck that Deathstroke managed to grab onto his previously injured wing. He winced as the teeth sunk farther in. 

This wasn't working, and Bruce needed to change tactics. He kicked out with his claws, gouging deep slashes into Deathstroke's underbelly and changed his grip. He let go of Deathstroke's neck and sunk his teeth into his head, letting out short, explosive bursts of fire. This finally dislodge his grip on his wing and Bruce took the opportunity to give Deathstroke a strong hit to the head with his good wing.

Once free, he gave them some distance. Bruce was panting harshly now, his left wing throbbed as blood poured out of the wound. But he refused to back down.

_ "Not bad Wayne, but still not good enough,"  _ Deathstroke chuckled.

Bruce roared a challenge and steeled himself for a long, hard fight. But it seemed like he might not have to do it alone.

A red mass dropped out of the sky, an earth shattering roar rang and it placed itself between the two dragons. Bruce recognized the hulking mass of deep red scales, accented with black. The black curved horns and spikes covered in scratches and the glowing blue green eyes. He has never been so grateful to see Jason.

_ "Hey old man, heard you might need some help,"  _ Jason said, never taking his eyes off of Deathstroke.

" _ You and your brothers worry too much, I had it under control." _

Jason let out a rumbling laugh, clearly not believing him. But Bruce will admit he is glad that Jason managed to find him in time. Being a western dragon himself, he makes more than a match for Deathstroke. And by the looks of it, he knows that as well.

_ "Well? I thought you were here for a fight,"  _ Jason taunted, blowing embers out of his maw and beating his wings.

_ "Another time fledgling."  _ Deathstroke let out a burst of fire before taking off in the other direction.

As Bruce tried to move out of the way of the flames, pain shot up his wing and he faltered. Jason managed to reach him in time to righten him before he tried to chase after Deathstroke.

_ "Jason, don't bother. We can figure out what to do with him after, we need to go get Damian." _

_ "You let your little demon spawn out of your sight willingly? Never thought I'd see the day"  _ Jason laughed as he flew next to Bruce's bad wing to support him. 

_ "Don't call your brother that," _ Bruce said as he nipped at Jason. He just laughed again.

_ "I told him to go to the farm I've been staying at, he had a child with him." _

_ "You and your bleeding heart,"  _ Jason huffed.

Bruce ignored that comment, deciding to fly in silence. Jason was cooperative for once, which allowed Bruce the time to gather his thoughts and figure out what he was going to say to Clark.

..

All too soon they reached the Kent farm, and Bruce was grateful. He managed to not land on his face, but it was far from graceful. Jason thankfully didn't say anything. As soon as their feet touched the ground, Damian came barreling out from the direction of the barn with Jon hot on his heels.

_ "Father, did you kill that degenerate?" _

Jason gwaffed at Damian's choice of words before coming closer to tease him.  _ "Wow that's a ten dollar word there squirt." _

_ "Why are you even here Todd? Don't you have a gang banger to eat?"  _ Damian spat, trying to snap at Jason's claws which were just out of reach. Jason decided to just push the fledgling over.

_ "Boys enough! Where is--" _

"What is going on here?" Martha exclaimed as she walked towards Jon and pulled him close. Granted, seeing three dragons on your front lawn would be shocking to most people.

"Don't worry Ma, they're nice! They won't hurt us," Jon quickly explained. He wiggled out of her arms and ran towards Bruce, ignoring Martha's cries of fear.

"It's Bruce!" Jon said as he stood in front of the wyvern. He placed his hands out and waited for Bruce to awkwardly place his massive head in his tiny hands. 

Martha nearly had a heart attack.

"Clark you need to come here, right now!" She yelled. 

Bruce expected Clark to come from inside the house but was surprised when he saw him floating in the sky. 

His breath was caught in his throat, mouth going dry as he watched Clark gently descend with, curiously, an armful of sunflowers. Bruce couldn't get his mouth to work, not knowing what to say to this man who single handedly, made Bruce question what he knew about happiness.

Clark eventually landed, arms still ridiculously full of sunflowers. 

_ They're his favourite flowers, he said he likes to give them to those he cares about. _

Bruce shook his head, clearing away his muddled thoughts. He must have lost more blood than he thought. 

"Dad look, aren't they so cool? It's Bruce and his kids! They saved me from that dragon that's been attacking the farm and I got to ride them and--"

"Wait, what happened?" Clark cut his son off, not believing what he's just heard. 

Jon finally noticed that his father wasn't in the mood and looked between him and the dragons. "Well… you see we ran into--" 

Clark dropped the flowers, putting one hand up to stop Jon's mumbling. "I'm not asking you Jon, I'm asking  _ him." _

Bruce watched as each flower hit the dirt, not wanting to look at Clark. Whatever relationship he thought he could salvage died at the icy tone directed at him.

"I can't believe you would put Jon in danger like that. The secrets I can try to understand, but to put my son in that situation…" Clark trailed off, his anger evident in his clenched fists and red eyes. Right, he's Superman.

He could feel it, the strain on their bond. He doesn't know how it works, there haven't been many bonded mates in recent memory. But it seems a bit unfair to go through this much pain for something that he never really had the chance to explore.

So he just went back to what he knows, ruining any chance he could have at happiness for himself.

_ "I did the best I could, given the situation Clark. He made it back safe did he not?"  _ Bruce growled, his anger threatening to spill out. But he had to keep it under control, the Kent's were already tense, no need to escalate it.

_ "But you're not without your own faults Clark Kent. When were you going to tell me you were Superman? After you trained me to heel? Turned me into an obedient pet?"  _ Bruce sneered, pushing against Clark's solid chest with his snout.

Clark pushed him away, it felt like a knife through his chest, and glared at him.

"This isn't about me Bruce, you put my family in danger."

_ "Did I? You already had a dragon problem, I dealt with it." _

Clark took a deep breath, eyes closed as if he couldn't even bare to look at Bruce. He bared his fangs in annoyance.

"Maybe it's best if you left Bruce. I need to… to think," Clark sighed, sounding exhausted. He motioned for Jon to come to him.

"But dad… he saved me," Jon cried, on the verge of tears.

Not wanting to cause more trouble with the Kents, Bruce gently pushed Jon towards his father. Jon looked at him with such sad eyes and quickly hugged him before running to his family. 

_ "We're leaving, let's go."  _ Bruce took a running start before taking off, hiding his girmance at the pain as best he could.

Damian and Jason eventually joined him in the air, keeping close incase Bruce needed them. They managed to fly in peaceful silence for a few minutes, unfortunately it didn't last.

_ "So, want to explain what that was all about?"  _ Jason needled, his curiosity out weighing the threat of violence from his father.

_ "No." _

_ "No of course not, trying to get you to talk about your feelings is like pulling teeth,"  _ Jason sighed, flying on ahead to take point.

Bruce stared ahead, hoping to save his strength and just focus on flying. With his injury, the flight home is going to be long and hard. He twists his head to lick at the blood that thankfully, has slowed down.

_ "You shouldn't let the alien talk to you like that Father." _

Bruce sighed and turned to look at his youngest.  _ "Damian, let's just focus on getting home. Just because we chased Deathstroke off, doesn't mean he's actually gone." _

Knowing when to cut his loses, Damian clamped his jaws shut and huffed in annoyance.

Bruce felt exhausted, emotionally and physically. He just wanted to go back to the manor and sleep this away. And hopefully when he wakes up he can forget all about Clark Kent.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here comes the porn

Bruce was tired. 

His time spent on the Kent farm seemed like a lifetime ago, a faint memory that didn't even feel like it belonged to him. He knew it wasn't meant to last, that he wasn't cut out for story book endings or love. And yet, he couldn't find it in himself to let go.

Ever since he left the farm and returned home, things haven't been the same. Alfred and the boys keep their distance, only talking to him if absolutely necessary. And even then he can barely tolerate it, the hushed tones and sympathetic eyes. He knows they mean well but he can't help but be irritated by it all the same. 

The worst part is, he  _ misses _ Clark. Most days he can drown himself in work, be it at the office or business with the other dragon lords. But the rest, the rest he feels as if someone took a blade to his chest and gouged out his heart. Where the spot it once sat feels empty and cold, the hollowed out feeling threatening to swallow him and never let go. Those days he can barely stand.

He can feel it, the battered bond between him and his mate. Not completely destroyed, but damaged so severely that it weighs on him like a phantom limb. He isn't sure if Clark felt anything before but Bruce hopes he's spared this pain. 

He wonders what will happen to him now, there haven't been many recorded cases of split pairs or what happened to them. But he can tell that something's changed in him. The things he enjoyed have lost their appeal, he hardly sees his family unless they manage to catch him at breakfast or when he comes home from work and to be honest he'd rather spend his days in bed.

And with no prior engagements or any actual need to leave the house, Bruce has spent most of the morning in his favourite room at the manor. He likes to call it the sun room, it's a spacious room with minimal furniture. Just a desk in the corner, a bookshelf with his favourite books and enough blankets and pillows to make a comfortable nest.

Usually if Bruce was having a very hard day he'd find himself nestled in this room to sleep it away. With its floor to ceiling windows the sun would come pouring in and flood the room with its warm rays. He would let the sun soak into his bones and soothe his body while he rested.

Today he's been dozing on and off, wrapped up in blankets and quilts that have been in this house for as long as he can remember. They're almost thread bare but they remind him of home. He shifts around, trying to get comfortable after waking up again. The sun's shifted and so Bruce chases the warmth, moving to a warmer spot. He collapses into the pillows and pulls the blankets up to his nose. Nuzzling into the blankets, he catches a glimpse of red plaid through half lidded eyes. His breath catches and an ache settles in his chest.

Bruce was grateful that Clark didn't ask for the shirt back when he left. It isn't much but it still smelled faintly of Clark and the farm. Before the memories could surface he burrows deeper into his nest, the collar of the shirt pulled up to his nose so he falls asleep with Clark's scent close. He can almost pretend that Clark's there with him.

..

The days bleed into weeks and soon enough it's been a couple of months since Bruce and Clark's falling out. To make matters worse, Bruce catches himself slipping back into some bad habits. He hates to admit it but everything bothers him these days. His patience is paper thin, he's less involved with people both at Wayne Enterprises and at the occasional gala. Alfred says he's losing touch with his humanity, Bruce laughs that he's never had any to begin with.

"Now that's quite enough Master Bruce," Alfred snaps, throwing the towel in his hand down on the kitchen counter. Bruce merely raised an eyebrow in question, coffee in hand and reports in the other. 

"I may not completely understand what you're going through but I will not stand for slander in this house," Alfred said. He made his way to the table where Bruce was currently sitting and placed a plateful of sandwiches in front of him.

"Now, I  _ do  _ understand that you think running on a diet of coffee and brooding is enough to sustain a full grown dragon, but I disagree." Alfred made to grab the coffee mug and was met with a low growl. 

He froze, hand still outstretched and really looked at Bruce. He took in the rumpled and stained clothes, the dark bruises underneath his eyes and days old stubble across his jaw. He looked at this man and couldn't help but still see his little boy underneath all those layers. He slowly lowered his hand, clenching his fists in silent anger.

Bruce glanced at Alfred's trembling hand, letting out a sigh before returning to his reports. "You worry too much Alfred, I'm fine. Wayne Enterprises' stocks are at an all time high and I have a scheduled meeting with the Justice League later this week. Things are going well," Bruce replied. He took another slow sip of his coffee before flipping over another page.

"And is that a good idea Master Bruce, to be meeting with the League so soon? To see Superman?" 

Bruce slammed his mug down, some of the coffee landing on the table. Angry draconic eyes met Alfred's unflinching glare, the tension mounting between the two.

"My apologies if this seems out of turn, but you haven't spoken much about your time away. But from what I can gather from the boys, it seemed like Superman was very important to you," Alfred said gently, hoping to coax more information out of Bruce about the weeks he spent in Kansas.

Bruce knows he's been very secretive about what happened between him and Clark, only Dick and Damian know what happened to him in detail. But even they don't know the whole story, and knowing that he hasn't said anything to Alfred doesn't sit well with him. Bruce didn't mean to keep quiet about this to Alfred for so long, but talking about his emotions has never been his strong suit. He needs to open up about this on his own terms, be it days from now or a couple centuries. But he needs time.

Alfred trying to force it was the wrong thing to do. As soon as Bruce realized what Alfred was trying to do he snapped. A loud crash echoed around the room as both the plate of sandwiches and Bruce's coffee mug ended up on the kitchen floor.

"Clark means  _ nothing  _ to me!" Bruce spat, the aggression rolling off of him in waves. Small embers escaped from the corners of his mouth while he bared his fangs in a furious snarl. Faint wisps of smoke were coming off his body, Bruce looked like he was ready for a fight. 

As Alfred slowly moved into a position to defend himself if need be, the sound of hurried footsteps raced towards them. Bruce quickly snapped his head towards the kitchen doorway as the boys skidded to a halt just outside. Alfred stepped in front of them to draw Bruce's attention back to him.

"If he indeed means nothing to you then why won't you speak about him? You don't eat, you barely sleep, we're just worried about you Bruce," Alfred replied.

Bruce didn't want to have this conversation right now, he wasn't ready. He suddenly felt too exposed, with Alfred bluntly asking about Clark he felt trapped. The kitchen suddenly felt too small, with his family boxing him in and covering the only exit he could feel the panic creep in. 

Ever since Clark's clear rejection he could feel his mental state shift. The irritability was obvious, but there were some days where he would lose time. It was never for long periods but the brief moments where he couldn't remember what happened frightened him. The loss of control was the worst of it all, the fact that this one person had so much control over him without even being near him was enough to drive Bruce mad. 

There was just too much going on inside him, his chest felt constricted and every breath didn't feel like they reached his lungs. His vision started to tunnel, he could see Alfred moving closer and then his body moved on its own.

With a wild roar Bruce struck at Alfred, a lightning fast jab aimed for his throat but easily blocked by the older dragon. Alfred grabbed his wrist before Bruce managed to pull away and wrenched his arm behind his back, as Bruce struggled in his grip Alfred managed to grab his other arm as well. 

Running on adrenaline and instinct Bruce fought back, trying to slam into any available surface in an attempt to throw Alfred off. He managed to slam Alfred into the kitchen island and loosen his grip just enough to twist away. He turned to face his family as they rushed inside to help, he bared his fangs in warning. His throat glowed orange with the fire that threatened to spill out of his mouth.

He could see Dick's mouth moving but the sound rushed inside his ears, turning everything into white noise. So focused on Dick he didn't notice that Jason slipped out of his line of view until he slammed right into him. Both dragons crashed to the floor, Jason landing on top of Bruce in an attempt to pin him.

They snarled at each other, Jason trying to restrain him as Bruce worked hard to try and escape. Jason was the biggest of his hatchlings, nearly as tall and wide as himself. As they fought, Bruce was reminded that Jason hasn't been a hatchling for a very long time. With every hit that Jason managed to get in Bruce had to clear his head. The strength behind each punch was enough to make Bruce pause for a split second, the ringing in his ears was getting louder. 

Getting frustrated, Bruce lashed out at Jason in an attempt to create some distance between them. As expected Jason leapt out of reach, but strangely enough he relaxed his body and put his hands up in a sign of surrender. Bruce had a moment to contemplate that before he felt an iron grip at the back of his neck, essentially scuffing him. 

Outraged he made a grab for the hand on the back of his neck, and missed. He was strong armed to his knees and then, embarrassingly, his face pushed into the kitchen tiles. With his emotions running high and options dwindling Bruce lashed out. His limbs struck out blindly in an attempt to shake off his assailant, his shoes slipping on the floor as he tried to stand. One of his arms was grabbed and forced behind him, the force on the back of his neck increased until he couldn't tolerate it any longer. 

"Now that is  _ quite _ enough Bruce, you need to calm down!" Alfred said, tightening his grip just slightly and giving Bruce a rough shake. 

Bruce could feel something hot and ugly settle in his chest. The fact that Alfred had resorted to scuffing him like some kind of fledgling was enough to make him snarl his displeasure. This only earned him another rough shake from Alfred. 

Effectively pinned, Bruce let his anger show. His attempts at escaping Alred's iron grip redoubled, his upper body almost lifting off the floor until Alfred bared his full weight on top of his back. Bruce saw red, he thrashed some more as fire scorched the kitchen tiles. This didn't last for long as Bruce started to slow down, his body quickly tiring itself out. Eventually Bruce stopped completely, his haggard breaths echoed around the room.

"Now, I'm going to let you go and we are going to talk about this." Alfred slowly eased the pressure off of Bruce's neck but still hovered close by. Instead of removing his hand completely, Alfred brought it back towards Bruce's upper back and slowly started to rub small circles in between his shoulder blades. The gentle action was so unexpected that Bruce couldn't suppress the hitch in his breathing, something Alfred couldn't have missed. He could feel the backs of his eyes starting to burn, a lump starting to form in his throat. 

"I understand if you don't want to talk about Mr.Kent or what happened when you were on his farm, but I need to know that you won't be a danger to this family," Alfred whispered. He kept his volume low as he rubbed soothing circles down Bruce's back. He feared anything louder than that would break the fragile moment.

"Boys can you give us a minute?" Alfred requested, looking toward Dick to take charge and heard his brothers to a separate room. 

Dick looked between Bruce and Alfred, the worry rolling off of him in waves. "Take care of him, alright Alfie?" 

"Of course Master Dick." Alfred watched as Dick nudged his brothers out of the kitchen, fussing over Jason especially. He was rewarded with a half hearted snarl before moving on to Tim and Damian. The youngest was rooted in place, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched his father. With one last glance he finally followed Dick, leaving just Bruce and Alfred in the kitchen.

The room was quiet for the next few minutes, the only sound was Bruce's harsh breathing. Alfred continued his soothing motions, almost lulling Bruce to sleep.He doesn't know what he did to deserve Alfred. He's been more than understanding ever since Bruce came back from the farm, even having to deal with what just happened. Thinking back on the fight he can't help but feel ashamed at his behavior, normally he would never raise a hand to his family. The fact that he had a full blown fight in the kitchen was a sign that he needs to talk to Alfred.

"... he's my soulmate," Bruce mumbled. Having to tell Alfred something as important as this in such a horrible way breaks something in him. The tears he worked so hard to hold back slowly pool in his eyes before spilling down his cheeks. "He's my soulmate and he didn't want me," Bruce gasped, his breath catching in his throat. 

To his credit, Alfred's hand paused only for a split second before resuming its comforting journey up and down Bruce's back. He gently maneuvered Bruce into a sitting position and looked at his son.

Bruce looked miserable, his eyes and nose were starting to turn red while his tear stained face wouldn't look Alfred in the eye. It was rare that Bruce showed any emotions, he usually held such tight control over every aspect of his life. For one person to cause this much distress to him was awful.

Alfred could feel his anger at Clark Kent start to surface and instead, put that aside for a later time. He gently cradled Bruce's face and wiped away his tears with his thumbs, just as he did when he lost the Wayne's all those centuries ago. He waited as Bruce's hiccups and sniffles started to subside before he embraced him. Alfred knows Bruce isn't usually one for comforting embraces, but he thinks this one time could be an exception. His hunch was proven correct when Bruce slowly brought his arms up to return the hug and buried his face deeper into Alfred's shoulder. 

He placed one hand behind Bruce's head and his other arm wrapped around those broad shoulders. Alfred rested his cheek on Bruce's hair as he whispered comforting words into his ear.

"Well he's an idiot for sending you away, he doesn't deserve your love." Bruce couldn't help but scoff at Alfred's words. As if his love is worth anything.

Alfred just hugged him tighter and resumed his gentle back rub. The two of them sat there on the kitchen floor for a few more moments, just enough time for Bruce to go quiet. Alfred would've liked to hold Bruce for a while longer, he isn't usually allowed these rare moments of affection. But Bruce felt as if he was already being generous enough and started to fidget. Knowing that the moment was over, Alfred pulled away but kept his hands on Bruce's shoulders.

"Now, I think you need some time to calm down and rest," Alfred said while he helped Bruce up. Bruce didn't realize that he had started pouting and Alfred couldn't stop the small smile from forming on his face. He was reminded of a young Bruce pulling the same face when he couldn't get his way and the memory warmed him. 

"If you want to be alone the lake house is fully stocked with everything you would need. I can let the boys know and if you find yourself more willing to talk we'll be here," Alfred offered. 

Bruce gave him a grateful look. "Thank you Alfred, for everything. I think I'll head over to the lake house for a while, take some time for myself," Bruce agreed. He slowly made his way to the front entrance of the manor before he decided to head upstairs instead. 

Every step he took was a challenge, the slight clarity he regained from talking to Alfred was slowly slipping away. The ever growing feeling of grief was threatening to consume him again. He finally reached his room and slipped inside, making his way to his laundry hamper and grabbing the familiar red plaid on top. Slipping it on he made his way back downstairs, not seeing any of his family along the way.

He was grateful that Alfred was keeping the boys busy, he doesn't think he can face them right now. Once outside the manor gates Bruce takes his time changing. He hasn't transformed into his other form since his return from the farm so he savors the feeling of magic washing over him. More comfortable in his draconic skin, Bruce takes a few thunder steps before taking to the air. The wind blowing the constant black smoke around him as he climbs higher and higher.

He soon clears the low hanging clouds, cruising at a comfortable speed and height. The short trip to the lake house gave him the chance to clear his head. The crisp air felt so refreshing, the solitude in the skies giving him the opportunity to just close his eyes and relax. Too soon Bruce dipped back below the clouds and circled the lake house property. Rather than heading straight inside he glided right into the lake. 

Bruce submerged his entire body as well as he could beneath the water, hoping the cold temperature would snap him out of the mood he's been having. He stayed under there for as long as he could, the occasional bubble breaking the surface. He started on some of the meditation techniques he's learned throughout his life, hoping a blank mind would help as well. But as time went on and the only change was in his body temperature, Bruce decided it was time to head inside and warm up. 

Bruce quickly shot to the surface, breaking the calm of the lake and shook out the excess water from his eyes. Being so preoccupied with getting dry, he didn't notice he had company. 

"Bruce."

He froze, with just his name Clark managed to mangle any pretense of calm he might have had. Bruce slowly brought his head up to look at his mate and felt his breath stutter in his chest. He wasn't wearing his uniform, no vibrant colors and cape to distract him. He looked just as he did when they first met at breakfast his first morning at the farm. The only difference was the lack of clunky glasses to hide his eyes.

Bruce didn't know what to say, and honestly what could he say to Clark in this moment? Words were said before already, and both sides made sure they would hurt. But God did Bruce want to say something to Clark, who looked ethereal floating just above the lake's surface. The late afternoon sunlight bathed him in a healthy warm glow, his hair was windswept and just this image alone made Bruce yearn for his mate. To drag himself over to him and beg, to ask for forgiveness.

And he almost did, except that he noticed the look in Clark's eyes. Clark must know how much he wears his emotions on his sleeves, how expressive his eyes are. The unease and distrust was clear as day, with a touch of fear to really round it all out. Bruce could feel himself going numb and it wasn't because of the water. With a heavy heart he turned around, ready to slink into the caverns underneath the lake house until the heartache lessened. 

"Bruce wait, we need to talk. Alfred called me and --" Clark snapped his mouth shut as Bruce exploded out of the water. Quickly moving just a few feet away from the approaching dragon he couldn't help but tense up, his fight or flight kicking in.

That small movement did not go unnoticed by Bruce, which in turn only fed into his rage. He couldn't believe that Clark would dare talk to his family behind his back,  _ before _ even talking to him. This slight burned in his gut, threatening to come crawling out as dragon fire. So Bruce let it.

He pulled his upper body out of the water, sharp claws grabbing hold of the water walkway on the lake to force himself closer into Clark's space. If he was uncomfortable dealing with Bruce when he looked like this, then Bruce would make sure to make him regret coming after him.

Shoving his jaws right up to Clark, Bruce made sure that the fire was spilling out between his teeth. With his aggression rising his body started producing even more black smoke, it hid most of his body and started to roll out across the lake. What a sight he must make, like a demon straight out of hell's fire. 

Yet the fact that Clark merely swallowed his fear and straightened his back nearly caused Bruce to set the alien on fire. He's heard tales of Superman having a weakness to magic, it would've been a good opportunity to test it. Bruce gashed his teeth irritably when it was obvious Clark was no longer intimidated. 

There was determination in his gaze as he locked eyes with Bruce. His brows furrowed in concentration as if he was mulling over what to say. Eventually he slowly brought his hand up and leveled it with Bruce's snout. 

Taken aback Bruce moved back just a touch, the flames in his jaws slowly dying out to a fizzle of smoke and embers. Not knowing what Clark had in mind, Bruce wearily watched the hand slowly coming closer. 

Not so easily placated, Bruce snarled and dropped back into the lake. His neck and head were the only parts of him visible. Clark's shoulders sagged in disappointment and Bruce reviled in this small victory.

Clark brought his arm back to his side, looking away from Bruce. "I- I know we didn't part on the best terms back on the farm but all I want is to talk," Clark pleaded, bringing his eyes back to the dragon. He gently landed on the walkway, the sound of his boots scuffing the old wood. Clark waited with an earnest look on his face, hands shoved deep into his pockets as Bruce circled the walkway like a shark.

After a few turns Clark let out a harsh sigh and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Bruce let out a huff before ducking back under the water, only to reappear back in front of Clark. Face dripping with water, Bruce stopped within reach of him. As much as he wanted to hold onto his anger, Bruce was weak and he craved Clark's touch again.

"I understand if you don't want to speak to me, but I have to know if you've been feeling the same," Clark confided in Bruce. He reached out again, slowly, and was surprised when Bruce gently pressed his muzzle into his hand. 

A warmth spread throughout Clark's chest and he couldn't help but smile at Bruce. He brought up his other hand and lightly scratched over Bruce's scales. He was always curious about how dragon scales felt, so the fact that Bruce's scales felt smooth and warm was a pleasant surprise. When Bruce started to let out a sort of low rumble, Clark couldn't hold in his laughter. He sounded like an old car starting up.

"You sound like an old motor, is this you purring? It's cute," Clark laughed. 

As soon as Clark voiced it, Bruce abruptly stopped and gave him a forceful shove. Clark just lifted off the walkway and floated, he couldn't help but notice that even floating a foot in the air Bruce's head was bigger than him. 

Bruce removed himself from Clark's hold, as much as they both wanted to just stay and enjoy the moment, Clark did come here for a reason. 

Bruce changed back, standing in front of Clark for the first time in months. It's unfortunate that he's dripping wet and still wearing his old plaid shirt. Something Clark noticed right away.

"Well we might as well head inside then," Bruce grumbled as he walked past him and headed into the lake house. 

Clark had to take a moment to process watching Bruce change from a dragon to human. Or at least human shaped. He knew since that day on the farm what Bruce actually was, but to see it in person just made it real. It's just, thinking about how much he wanted to sleep with Bruce before all this started was making Clark question some things about himself. Before he could think about it anymore Clark quickly followed Bruce inside.

When he made it inside, Bruce was nowhere to be seen. Rather than wandering around aimlessly, he listened for Bruce's heartbeat. It sounded strongly from further in the house, and so Clark followed it. He soon found himself outside of Bruce's bathroom, eyes fixed on him as he peeled off the soaking layers. But one piece of clothing caught his eye, a red shirt that Clark hasn't seen in awhile.

He walked inside and picked up the soggy shirt, chuckling when it was indeed the plaid shirt he thought he lost. "So this is where it went."

Bruce tensed when Clark came into the bathroom, at his comment he completely froze. 

"You can have it back," he growled.

Clark tried to catch Bruce's eyes in the mirror but he stubbornly avoided his gaze and toweled himself off instead. Once dried off, Bruce changed into the sleep clothes he laid out in the countertop and made a move to leave. Realizing Bruce wouldn't be making the first move, Clark placed the shirt in the hamper before he reached out for Bruce's wrist. 

Bruce stepped out of Clark's reach and faced him, a growl in his throat and a hard look in his eyes. Sadness passed over Clark's face, he sighed again. 

"Bruce we need to talk."

"No," Bruce spat as he made his way to his room. He flung the door open and made his way over to his bed, ripping the sheets from their neatly tucked corners and burrowing under them. The dismissal was clear to anyone who bothered to pay attention. Too bad Clark wasn't leaving without at least saying his part.

"Bruce. I need to understand why this is happening, why I can't seem to focus anymore. Everything is just,  _ too much _ ," Clark pleaded. 

His composure almost cracked when the only thing Bruce did was burrow deeper into his blankets. He took a shaky breath at Bruce's cold reaction, knowing he deserved at least a little bit of this. 

But he was almost at his breaking point, all the sleepless nights, the confusion and the fact that he's gotten into one too many unnecessary fights with the League was weighing on him. But worse of all was the hollow ache he constantly felt inside his chest. It was persistent and distracting, a problem that arose after Bruce left Smallville. Clark needed an answer and unfortunately Bruce was the only one he could talk to about it. If he ever wanted to talk to him.

Not knowing what else to do Clark let his temper get the best of him. 

"Bruce! You need to tell me what's happening, it's the least you can do!"

"Don't you  _ dare _ ," Bruce growled from his nest of blankets. Undeterred Clark glared unflinchingly back at the draconic eyes watching him. 

"Everything that's happened has been on you Clark. The reason why you feel the way you do is because we were bonded and you broke it," Bruce snarled, throwing the blankets aside to meet Clark head on. Both of them stood there, angry at different things but no less hurt because of them.

"Bruce that's not fair." Bruce scoffed and crossed his arms in front of himself, daring Clark to keep talking. "I didn't know about any of this, I didn't even know that you were a dragon! You can't expect me to read your mind, if you were just honest with me from the beginning I would've understood," Clark reasoned, trying to get control of the situation.

Bruce could help it, he laughed right in Clark's face. A loud, humorless one that set Clark's teeth on edge and anger rocketing back up to ten. 

"No, you wouldn't have. I know you Clark, we spent a lot of time together at your farm," Bruce purred, stepping right into Clark's space. He grabbed onto Clark's shirt and pulled him flush against his body. Clark clamped his hands onto Bruce's wrist in an attempt to pry them off himself. He wasn't surprised when they didn't budge.

Bruce stepped even closer, pressing his cheek to Clark's. He breathed in deeply, taking advantage of their closeness to remember his scent. Once he had Clark trapped in his grasp, he lost himself for a bit. Having gone months without so much as a look at his mate has sent Bruce into a primal state. 

Soon enough he couldn't get enough of him. He tilted his head upwards, exposing the underside of his jaw that contained his scent markers and drew them across Clark's jaw. This effectively let every dragon know that Clark was  _ his.  _ A deep satisfied rumble sounded in his chest as he continued to swipe his jaw across Clark's own as well as his temple, completely oblivious to his discomfort.

"Bruce, stop. This isn't what I came here for," Clark said as he attempted to pull away. He doesn't know what's gotten into Bruce but he doesn't like it. He pulled his head back as Bruce tried to make another pass at his temple.

Without missing a beat Bruce changed directions and put his nose in the juncture of Clark's neck and shoulder instead. Before Clark could stop him he nuzzled into the spot and took another deep inhale.

"But isn't it? You asked me why you've been feeling the way you have and it's obvious," Bruce mumbled into his skin, his fangs peeking out to nibble and mark. He smirked when he felt Clark shiver at the ministrations. 

"It's rare these days, but some dragons are born with a soulmate, all it takes is just a touch and a bond is formed. The longer they stay in contact with each other the stronger it becomes." He licked a stripe up Clark's neck and nipped his ear lobe. Clark let out a small gasp at the unexpected action and tightened his grip on Bruce's wrists.

"But if that bond is broken, well, no one's completely sure what would happen. There haven't been many documented cases, especially recent ones" Bruce muttered next to Clark's ear.

"Until us," Clark gasped as Bruce bit slightly harder on his exposed neck. He hated to admit it but with Bruce being so close and placing his mouth wherever he pleased, Clark was getting aroused. He could feel his cheeks darkening with colour as he realized he was already half hard in his jeans. 

Realizing that the whole situation was getting out of hand, Clark managed to push his lust away for a moment to grab Bruce by the throat. His hand ended up just beneath Bruce's jaw, giving him enough leverage to push Bruce away. Which he did not take too kindly to.

Bruce snarled, his once calm demeanor was replaced by slitted eyes and sharp fangs. He finally let go of Clark's shirt to grab the arm currently holding him away. 

"Bruce I need you to listen to me for once! What's going to happen to us if this bond can't be fixed?" Clark asked, his voice almost pleading. 

Bruce has had enough of this, he's tired of Clark not wanting him. The uncontrollable rage he felt back at the manor returned and he decided to let it out. With a roar he brought his hands down hard on Clark's arm causing it to buckle. This gave him a chance to get in close once again and without thinking, he sunk his sharp teeth deep into Clark's shoulder. 

Clark let out a cry of pain and tried to pry Bruce off of him. Bruce just sunk his teeth in deeper and hung on tighter. He wasn't thinking clearly anymore, too angry at how unfair everything was. How he was given a mate who didn't want him, who wasn't hurting like he was. If Bruce couldn't make Clark understand how much he hurt him, then maybe he should show him. 

Suddenly Bruce was recoiling from a powerful hit to the side of his head. He let go of Clark to roll away, landing in a crouched position. The bloodlust was singing in his veins, edging him on. He must look like a wild animal to Clark, teeth bared and warm blood dripping down his face. He couldn't find it in himself to even care.

He brought his attention back to Clark but between one blink and the next he vanished. But before Clark could touch him again he spun around and grabbed him by the neck. Bruce growled as he slammed Clark into the floor. He groaned in pain, letting out small wheezes as Bruce applied more pressure onto his neck. 

Clark glared up at him, not willing to give an inch. He threw a punch in hopes of getting Bruce off of him but the dragon easily caught his fist. He pushed Clark's arm down towards his chest, locking him in an awkward position where his other arm wouldn't have been able to hit him. 

With his prey trapped between him and the ground, Bruce let out a pleased hum. He swung his leg over, sitting on Clark's pelvis. The low rumbling from earlier started up again and Bruce brought his bloodied cheek down next to Clark's. But before he could properly enjoy his mate he noticed his eyes start to glow red. Remembering Superman's power set he quickly pulled back as fire shot out of Clark's eyes. 

Taking advantage of the moment, Clark pushed against Bruce hard enough to dislodge him. Clark tried to pin him but Bruce wasn't going to go down easy. The pair rolled around the bedroom, throwing punches and kicks at each other whenever they could. Clark managed to get a good hit on Bruce's ribs while Bruce headbutted him in the face. He wiped off the blood dripping from his nose before tackling Bruce to the floor again.

Bruce snarled and snapped at him, trying to get in another bite. Clark forced Bruce around, limbs shaking in exhaustion as he wrestled Bruce into the position he wanted. He hated to do this but he needed to end this quickly, even his strength has its limits.

With Bruce facing the floor, Clark grabbed his left arm in an iron grip and wrenched it back. He placed his other hand at the base of his neck to keep him where he wanted him. Clark slowly forced Bruce's arm further and further back until he yelped in pain and finally stopped. He felt awful for doing that, knowing full well that Bruce's left arm would always be a bit weaker and that it was his fault. And now he was exploiting that knowledge. But thankfully that seemed to end their fight, for now. 

Clark hadn't noticed but he was  _ tired _ . His harsh pants cut through the silence of the room as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Now that he's had a moment to just breathe, he notices that Bruce is very quiet under him. His body has gone lax, all the fight just gone. Worried, he moved the hand that was on the back of his neck to the centre of his back and leaned in close.

"Bruce are you okay?" Clark asked gently. When he got no response he started to get nervous.

He carefully turned Bruce into his side, mindful of his sore arm. Once Clark could see his face he felt a pang in his chest looking at Bruce's face. He looked so heartbroken as his eyes misted over. 

"Oh Bruce…" 

Bruce closed his eyes, a couple of tears sliding down his cheeks. He curled into himself and brought his injured arm close to his chest. Clark felt so guilty, he doesn't know how this all happened. How they both ended up here. 

Knowing that he needed to take care of Bruce before he did anything else, he slipped his arms underneath the other man and lifted him into his arms. His eyes softened as Bruce curled into him, hiding his face in his chest. Clark let out a small huff of laughter, remembering how he carried Bruce that first night.

He made his way over to the bed and carefully laid Bruce down in the centre of it. Once he was as comfortable as Clark could make him he made his way to the bathroom. But as soon as he stepped away from the bed, Bruce let out a hurt noise. Clark quickly looked back and shushed him, pushing his hair out of his face.

"I'll be right back, I'm just going to the bathroom," Clark promised.

He quickly made his way to the bathroom, not wanting to leave Bruce alone for too long. He turned on the light and winced at his appearance. His nosebleed had slowed to a trickle and his shoulder looked like something used as a chew toy.

Clark was surprised, he's known that magic was dangerous to him but he didn't expect it to be this effective. He always assumed it was the more traditional magic of spells and enchantments, rather than creatures born of it. Something he'd like to talk more about with Bruce, if he still is able to. 

He started to carefully remove his shirt, wincing as the tacky blood stuck the shirt to his skin. He bundled it up to throw away later, there was no point in salvaging it. Looking around he managed to find a towel, and after a silent apology to Bruce, wet it to start cleaning off the blood. 

With his wounds cleaned off he was happy to notice that the bite marks were already starting to heal and his nose finally stopped bleeding as well. Clark soaked the towel again to try and get rid of most of his blood, hoping to use it to clean up Bruce as well. He wasn't looking to ruin more than one insanely expensive towel.

With the warm towel in hand Clark headed back into the bedroom. The room was bathed in the reds and golds of the sunset, a calming effect after what happened earlier. Clark took a moment to enjoy how the sunlight bounced off the lake and glass, how easy it was to soak up those last rays. He felt his strength returning and breathed out a sigh of relief.

He quietly padded back over to the bed and watched as the lump under the blankets rose and fell. Clark gently placed a hand on the mound of blankets, hoping to not startle Bruce. A sliver of amber peeked out from the darkness and Clark worked his hand inside. Bruce nuzzled into his hand and Clark gave him a small smile.

"Hey there, we should get you cleaned up," Clark said gently as he pushed the blankets down. He made a face when he noticed the blood was starting to get tacky. He'd have to scrub it off at this rate.

"Can you sit up for me?" 

Bruce narrowed his eyes and slowly shook his head. Clark winced as he smeared some blood onto the pillowcase. Good thing Bruce could afford to get bloodstains on a few of his things.

"Okay, well I'm going to try and wipe this off as best I can. So don't get mad at me if I move you around too much," Clark joked, trying to lighten the mood.

Bruce rolled his eyes in exasperation and nudged his arm, prompting Clark to start. He wiped Bruce's face in slow, broad strokes. Most of the blood came off easily and some of it did require a bit more force. Though the way Bruce's face scrunched up in annoyance made it worth it.

With most of the blood gone Clark couldn't help himself and peppered small kisses all over Bruce's face. Bruce started his low rumblings again and tangled his right hand into Clark's hair to pull him in closer.

"Hey there," Clark whispered, pressing his forehead to Bruce's.

"Hey yourself," Bruce mumbled back, gazing softly into Clark's eyes as he slowly ran his fingers through his hair. 

Clark let out a content hum, climbing onto the bed. He placed both arms on either side of Bruce's head while he sat on the edge. He didn't want to ruin this moment, letting Bruce dictate what he did next.

Bruce just let out an impatient noise and moved his hand to Clark's back. He pushed lightly, demanding more contact. Clark was happy to oblige and crawled into bed with him. He maneuvered himself so that he was half draped across Bruce's massive bulk, head resting just underneath his chin. 

"So I guess it's time--" Bruce grunts as he runs his jaw over Clark's hair. He tries to warp his left arm around Clark but gives up when it sends pain shooting up to his shoulder. "-- for us to talk about this Bruce. And where we want to go from here." Clark slowly moves Bruce's arm up to his waist and grins when he tightens it just slightly.

"What's there to talk about, we're mates, lied to each other, had a fight, avoided each other and fought again. Seems pretty straightforward to me," Bruce answered as he pushed his face further into Clark's hair.

Clark butts his head gently into Bruce's face in retaliation. "That's just it Bruce, we've only known each other for a few months and so much has happened." 

Bruce growled in distaste at the thought of talking and turned his head into the pillows. Not one to give up so easily, Clark looked at Bruce's unprotected neck and got an idea.

He licked a long stripe up Bruce's neck, secretly enjoying how Bruce jumped in surprise. Once he reached the spot just under his ear, Clark nipped and bit at it.

Suddenly, Clark found himself on his back underneath Bruce. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he looked up at the man hovering above him. His lust blown eyes and messy hair causing arousal to pool low in Clark's gut. His throat went dry and he held his breath, taking in the image above him. 

But Bruce must have taken it the wrong way and his eyes turned downcast. He slowly went to slide off the bed before Clark shot his hands out to cradle his face and hold him in place.

"And where do you think you're going, mister?

Bruce was silent above him, eyes avoiding his while he chewed on his bottom lip. "I understand if you want to leave I --"

"Come here you silly dragon," Clark laughed as he met Bruce halfway for a kiss. Bruce let out a soft gasp of surprise before he leaned in. 

They didn't rush into it, taking the time to really enjoy each other's company. Bruce slowly put more and more of his weight on Clark, fully immersing himself in his warmth. They traded soft kisses for a bit, taking breaks so Bruce could rub his scent all over Clark. 

"Why do you do that?" Clark asked, trying to hold in a sneeze when Bruce's hair tickles his nose.

"Hmm? Oh, it's a dragon thing," Bruce said vaguely. He made to move away from Clark's neck before a hand pushed his head back into that sweet scent. Bruce's eyes went half lidded as he nuzzled back into Clark's neck.

"I don't really mind it, I'm just curious. I've never met a dragon before you so I don't know their habits and customs." Clark reassured him, running his fingers through the soft strands. He lightly scratched Bruce's head, taking notice of the subtle difference between the silver at Bruce's temples and the rest of his dark hair.

Bruce arched back into Clark's hand, his rumbling growing louder as Clark managed to scratch at all the right places.

"Dragons are possessive… hmmm… and they like letting others know what belongs to them," Bruce purred, melting into Clark as he continued to scratch and pet him. "And our scent markers are located just under our jaws."

Bruce gasped as Clark moved his hand below his jaw and scratched him there. He went up and down, going as far as scratching behind his ear. Bruce couldn't help it and moaned. He could feel himself starting to grow hard, sure that Clark would have noticed as well.

"Really? That's interesting, but I'm not surprised," Clark laughed. "Do you also have a treasure hoard? I've heard dragons love gold."

Bruce slowly rolled his hips, just enough to show Clark what he wanted. "Of course I do, it would be embarrassing to not even have a small one." 

Clark let out a shaky sigh as he felt Bruce's cock rubbing up and down his thigh. He moved his hands downward to grab onto Bruce's ass. He squeezed his handful but made a face as Bruce tried to smother his moan into Clark's shoulder. He'd have to fix that.

"And what about the bond? How does it work exactly?" Clark proceeded to plant small kisses up and down Bruce's neck again, working his way to the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"It reacts with touch. It activates when two soulmates touch for the first time and develops from there. The more time they spend together the stronger it gets," Bruce mumbles, tilting his head to the side to allow Clark easier access to his neck.

"But if they separate for any reason, it puts a strain on their bond and, as you already know, can affect each bond mate in a different way. Worst case scenario is a broken bond, and I'm not quite sure what happens after that."

This was a lot of information for Clark to digest. He knows he asked for it, and that he should educate himself as best he can to avoid what happened to them before. But the thought that Bruce was going through all that pain because of him hurt. But for now, he wants to help Bruce forget that and help him feel good.

Clark moved one hand up to cradle Bruce's jaw, ignoring the sad whine he let out. He gently maneuvered Bruce's head so he could get a better view of his exposed neck. He used his other hand to rip Bruce's shirt open, moving the scraps away to sink his teeth into the meaty area.

Bruce snarled, thrashing to try and dislodge Clark. He just held tighter onto Bruce's throat and snaked his other arm around his waist to hold him down. This continued for another few seconds before Bruce whined and sunk into Clark's hold. 

Clark finally let go and placed kitten licks on the new bite mark. "Well I don't have any scent markers to rub on you but I hope this is enough," Clark said, slightly embarrassed at his actions. He isn't one to be so brash, but he thinks he owes Bruce this much.

Bruce's head shot up and his eyes looked dark with lust, the usual amber just a thin ring around his pupils. 

"Fuck me."

Clark blinked in surprise, of all the reactions he didn't expect this.

"Uh, Bruce I think we're jumping ahead here-" Clark yelped when Bruce reached down and grabbed the very obvious bulge in his pants and squeezed.

"Really? This is telling me a completely different story," Bruce leered down at Clark and rolled his hips for good measure. 

Clark gasped at the feel of Bruce's cock sliding against his, even with fabric in the way. He could feel his cheeks darkening as Bruce crawled up his body, sitting himself right on Clark's clothed dick.

"Come now Clark, you're telling me you don't want to?" Bruce arched his back and rocked back and forth on Clark's erection.

Clark inhaled sharply through his nose and gritted his teeth. The feeling of his cock sliding in between Bruce's clothed cheeks was enough to make him light headed. The idea of Bruce's tight heat encasing him was too much. His hands grabbed Bruce's hips in an attempt to stop him, but all that did was force Bruce to strain against him and cause even more friction.

The thought that Bruce could force his way out of his grasp was enough to get Clark even harder. His blush traveled down his neck at Bruce's smirk. 

"You can fight it all you want Clark but I know you're craving this." Bruce slid down to rest on his thighs and open the front of his jeans. Presented with Clark's cock, Bruce could feel his mouth water. He mouthed at it through Clark's boxers, lapping at the head and moving farther down to nose at his balls. 

"Bruce, please…" Clark gasped. His knuckles were white as he gripped the bed sheets tightly on either side. Bruce noticed how Clark was holding back and decided he's had his fun teasing him.

Bruce gracefully rolled off the bed, leaving Clark a confused, shaking mess. He undressed quickly, the need to have Clark inside him was too much. Clark finally got his brain to catch up and just as quickly slipped out of his jeans. 

"Everything you need is in the drawer to your left, I'm sure you know what to do with it," Bruce said as he crawled back onto the bed right next to Clark.

He laid down and stretched, giving Clark a good look at all that skin on display. His muscles bunched and rippled as he got comfortable, shooting Clark a flirtatious wink.

Clark couldn't hold himself back anymore, he pounced on Bruce and crushed their lips together. Their unhurried pace from earlier was gone, replaced by passion and need. Their tongues battled for dominance, hands reaching for each other. Clark nearly ripped the drawer out of the side table in his haste to grab the lube.

Once he managed to find the elusive bottle he pulled back, gasping for air he didn't actually need.

He looked down at Bruce, flushed red and chest heaving. They locked eyes and Bruce spread his legs wider, inviting Clark in closer. Clark quickly poured some lube onto his fingers, spilling some on the bed in his haste. 

He grabbed the back of Bruce's thigh in one hand, lifting it to place a kiss on the inside of his leg. His slicked fingers ran up and down the crease of Bruce's ass, just barely stopping at the rim.

Clark could hear everything, Bruce's heartbeat getting faster and faster, his breathing turning harsh and the creak of the headboard as his hands tightened on them. He was getting excited, thinking about how much he affected Bruce.

He couldn't hold back any longer, without warning he slipped one finger into Bruce up to the first knuckle. Bruce's breath stuttered in his chest before it came out as a content sigh. Clark took his time, pushing his finger in to the first knuckle before pumping it in and out. He enjoyed watching Bruce pant and twitch, craving more of his touch.

Bruce looked Clark in the eye and demanded, "More."

Trusting Bruce, Clark added another finger. From there he started moving, alternating between pumping his fingers and scissoring Bruce open.

"You're so tight," Clark gasped, crooking his fingers every so often to draw out those low, throaty moans from Bruce. The sounds he was making were going straight to Clark's cock.

"Stop talking and fuck me already Kent!" Bruce snarled. His eyes were almost black in the low light, his hair a mess and his body covered in a sheen of sweat. Clark almost whimpered at the delicious view.

"At least let me put in another finger, you're still too tight," Clark reasoned, sliding in another one before Bruce could object. As it slid in next to the other two already inside, Bruce hissed. Whether in pain or pleasure Clark couldn't decide. 

Hoping to distract him, Clark reaches for his cock. His distinctly  _ draconic _ cock that he so conveniently, has been avoiding this entire time. For the most part it looked like any other human's, except for the ridges on the underside. 

Clark cautiously reached out for it, grasping it in hand and slowly pumping it. Bruce's hips jerked in surprise before thrusting up into Clark's fist, a rush of precum spilled out and coated Clarm's fingers.

Clark took this time to really feel the differences. The ridges weren't as hard as he thought, smooth and warm yet also soft enough to be pleasurable. Clark gathered the precum leaking from the head and rubbed it down the ridges with his thumb. 

Just the feeling of it in his hand was enough to make Clark drool with want. 

"Next time I want this in me," Clark panted, squeezing Bruce's length tighter on the upstroke. Bruce gasped, twisting in the sheets at the spike in pleasure.

"If you ever get around to fucking  _ me  _ I'll make sure you won't get out of bed after I'm through with you," Bruce growled. 

Clark got impossibly harder at Bruce's threat, his knees going weak. With all his attention focused on Bruce's pleasure, he forgot about his own cock heavy in between his legs. With that incentive in the back of his mind he wasted no time. He pulled his fingers out, leaving Bruce to whine his displeasure. He quickly slicked himself up, lining up with one hand on Bruce's hip and one on himself.

"Just, let me know if you want to stop."

Bruce glared up at him again, eyes turning draconic as smoke started to rise off of his body. Getting tired of waiting, he pushed Clark onto his back and straddled him. Knocking Clark's hand off of his cock, Bruce grabbed it at the base, lined himself up and sank down. 

He let out a deep moan, savoring the stretch and burn of Clark's hard length. It was definitely bigger than the three fingers Bruce had in him before. When Clark was halfway inside, his hands moved to Bruce's hips and held on tightly. Bruce could feel every twitch and shiver as he sunk further and further down. 

When Bruce was fully seated on Clark's lap he groaned in pleasure, slowly rocking back and forth. 

"You're really pushy," Clark gasped, squeezing Bruce's hips tighter as he started to buck up into the tight heat. 

"Well you weren't doing anything so I just took initiative," Bruce replied. He lifted off of Clark's cock until just the head was left inside and slammed himself back down. He shook in pleasure while Clark nearly screamed.

Bruce smirked at his reaction before starting up a brutal pace. He rode Clark's cock hard and fast, changing the angle to try and find his prostate. 

With Bruce distracted, Clark brought one of his hands off of his hip to try and grab his cock. But before he could grab his prize, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. 

"No, not yet. If you wanted to be in control you should've done it in the first place," Bruce growled. He pried Clark's other hand off his hip and pressed both of them into the bed above his head. 

With the new position, Bruce was stretched all along Clark's body. In this new angle he finally managed to find that spot and moaned loudly when Clark's cock finally hit it. 

Bruce quickened his pace, his harsh pants soon turning into rumbling growls. He ignored the pleas coming from under him, determined to milk Clark and have him cum deep inside him. Marking him in his most intimate places. 

"Bruce please, let me touch you. I'm so cl-close," Clark whined. He planted his feet on the bed to try and meet Bruce's thrusts, pulling against the hands holding him down. 

The thought of the strength Bruce had to hold him down and take what he wanted from him was making Clark even harder. He couldn't stop the moans from spilling out of his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut as he came closer and closer to the edge.

"Clark, look at me," Bruce demanded, grabbing under his chin with one hand. Clark's eyes flew open and he looked up at the creature on top of him.

Glowing slitted eyes watched him and Clark could see fangs peeking out from Bruce's mouth as he panted. The faintest traces of smoke was rolling off his body and a light orange glow was lighting up Bruce's throat. And as the sweat glistened on his skin and he rode Clark harder and faster, small sparks of fire escaped from his gasping mouth.

The image above him was enough to finish him. Clark grabbed onto the wrist under his chin as he came. It was so sudden, as if his orgasm was punched out of him. He let out a long groan as his cum painted Bruce's insides. His hips sporadically thrusting into the warm body on top of him.

It felt like hours as he spilled inside of Bruce, he doesn't remember the last time he had an orgasm this long. Bruce was kind enough to keep moving, helping him to ride it out. He let out a content hum as he took everything Clark gave him.

When he finally finished, he melted into the bed. Boneless and salted he was ready to doze off.

"Don't go falling asleep on me now Kansas. We're not done here," Bruce purred as he laid down on top of Clark, his softening cock still inside him. He placed gentle kisses up Clark's neck before latching on with his teeth. He applied enough pressure until it became uncomfortable.

Clark placed his hand on the back of Bruce's head, scratching it as his other hand traveled south. He caressed Bruce's ass before probing at his hole. By this time his soft cock had slipped out, letting his still warm cum dribble out of Bruce's gaping hole.

"How do you want me then?" Clark asked as he scooped up the excess cum and pushed it back inside. Bruce hissed at the action, arching his back and letting go of his mouthful of skin. He started to rub himself on Clark's hard body as two fingers reentered him.

"Hmmm… I want your mouth," Bruce sighed. He nibbled at the corner of Clark's mouth, asking for a kiss. Clark obliged and kissed him deeply, removing his fingers and flipping Bruce into his back. 

He took his time, exploring all that skin presented to him. He started moving down towards Bruce's jaw, peppering kisses until he reached his scent markers. Once there he nosed at the area, trying to see if he could smell anything. 

Bruce's breath hitched at the contact in that specific spot, hands flying to Clark's head. He proceeded to rub those markers on Clark's face, a possessive growl in his throat.

Even with his enhanced sense of smell, Clark could only catch a whiff of smoke, traces of bergamot and maybe bourbon? Clark can't believe he's never noticed these smells on Bruce before. He pushes his nose harder into the skin, hoping to get more of the intoxicating scent.

Soon enough, he feels hands pulling his head back and he meets those amber eyes again.

"Later, you have a job to do right now Clark," Bruce growls. He swipes his jaw one last time over Clark's temple before pushing his head towards his cock.

Clark felt dazed, high off of sex and Bruce's scent. He was grateful Bruce was there to guide him, to bring his attention back to the engorged length in front of him. 

Bruce's cock was so red, it looked almost painful. It stood tall and flushed against his stomach, the ridges making it look enormous. And here is where Clark hesitated.

He knows he asked for this, that he should return the favour after Bruce gave him a mind blowing orgasm. But the scale like ridges honestly made him nervous. He swallowed in anticipation of having that down his throat.

"Clark, you don't have to go through with it if you don't want to," Bruce said. "I can finish myself off." Clark looked up at him, at the flicker of self doubt in Bruce's eyes. 

Clark gave Bruce a reassuring smile before he grabbed his cock in hand. He stoked it a couple of times before pressing his thumb just under the head. Bruce threw his head back and growled. 

Clark brought the head up to his lips and licked. Bruce bucked in his mouth but Clark pulled away just in time. He placed a hand on Bruce's hips to push them back onto the bed and hold him there.

"Calm down Bruce, let me take care of you."

Once Bruce settled, Clark brought the head into his mouth, sucking and licking over the slit. He took it slow, to get used to the feeling. He's never given a blow job before, growing up in rural Kansas never gave him the opportunity. But he wants to do well for Bruce. 

He soon moved on to the underside of Bruce's length. He takes a fortifying breathe before he runs his tongue down the ridges. Bruce grunts at the contact, grabbing onto Clark's hair. 

Getting a taste, Clark grows confident and brings the cock back into his mouth. But this time he pushes it farther down his throat. He hollows his cheeks and thanks Rao he doesn't have a gag reflex. He gets as much of Bruce's length into his mouth as he can, what he can't fit he grabs with his hand.

With his lips stretched around Bruce's hefted girth he can't help but moan at the taste. The heady scent and solid weight is enough to get him half hard. Once he gets used to the feeling of having a cock in his mouth he starts to bob his head. 

It's definitely not the best, but Clark makes up for it with his enthusiasm. He sucks and twists his hand, his other one going to roll and tug at Bruce's balls. 

Bruce whines and keens above him, hips stuttering in an attempt to force more of his cock down Clark's throat. As Clark gets into a rhythm, Bruce loses his patience.

The hand that was in his hair tightens and is joined by another one. Bruce grabs his head and moves it up and down his cock, fucking his face. 

Clark just relaxes his throat and muscles as much as he can, letting Bruce take his pleasure. He was glad to let Bruce take over, his assertive personality just making Clark harder. 

As Bruce's hips grew more frantic, Clark knew he was close. His own hips were grinding into the bedsheets. Bruce pushed his face into his pelvis and held it there as he came, hips stuttering and twitching with his orgasm. Bruce let out an obscene moan, and Clark was coming into the sheets. He shut his eyes and swallowed as much of Bruce's cum as he could, though some of it did dribble down his chin.

Bruce eventually pulled Clark off, letting him rest his head on his thigh as they both panted. Clark recovered first, moving his face closer to Bruce's spent cock to lick off what little cum was left. Bruce just hummed, the post coital haze taking him under. 

Once finished with his task, Clark made his way to the bathroom to get a wet cloth. He cleaned them both up as best he could in his tired state, trying to not let Bruce's sighs affect him as he cleaned inside. With that finished he dropped the cloth in the hamper and crawled back into bed. An arm snaked around his waist, pulling him flush to Bruce's sated body. 

"So, should we talk about us now?" Clark whispered. He laid his head on Bruce's shoulder, just about ready to fall asleep.

Bruce cracked open an eye to watch Clark before closing it. "Sleep for now, we can talk more in the morning."

"You want me to stay?" Clark asked in surprise.

Bruce frowned, turning to face Clark fully. "Of course, I'd prefer if you stayed forever but that's a discussion for another time." Bruce murmured, looking at him with earnest eyes.

"Well, tomorrow then." Clark whispered, leaning in close to kiss Bruce. 

They traded soft kisses until they drifted off to sleep, wrapped up in each other and hope for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for anyone who stuck around and I hope you liked it! I'm planning to write more in this verse so hopefully you'll come back and check it out :D

**Author's Note:**

> Also if you want to talk about anything DC, you can find me on
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BatmanShota)  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/the-saltiest-dog)


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